To nie jest hip-hop

Too many critics and not enough rhymes
This was fake that was real KRS I bust lines
Get mine yeah it's the Teacha blazing your speaker
First I want to shout Quebonafide
With KRS One we runnin' a double feature
Rappers wanna talk that shit we don't need ya
Hit 'em with the heater and a hundred degrees
Who are you to tell anyone what's a real MC please
Critics don't get it cause critics don't spit it
Clubs they never in it but quick to critique a lyric
That's not real hip hop I don't wanna hear it
Hip hop is real and you dudes don't come near it
Clear it save it the culture y'all betrayed it
Real hip hop the radio never plays it
No doubt they tryna phase hip hop out
By telling young people the cash is what it's about
That ain't real hip hop haters runnin' their mouths
It's real when KRS One is in the house yeah

I'm an artist from the start hip hop guided my heart
Watch and learn
Beats rhymes and lyrics that's my life
Real hip hop that's what I rock
I'm an artist from the start hip hop guided my heart
Oldschool newschool know school rules

Quebo jaka to jest szkoła że to taka klasa
Jestem nowym Jobsem i cisza jak makiem zasiał
Twoja fanka młody tu ma ksywę dobra nasza
Możesz jeść z podłogi bo ja cały czas zamiatam
Do Manhattanu przez Ciechanów to brzmi jak z kawału
I tłumy fanów nic dla szpanu więc mnie dziecko daruj
Nie skusił mnie tu żaden majors żaden label w kraju
A teraz wszędzie leci kotek Johnny Walker z kranu
Już zaczynałeś wierzyć w to że nie wyjdzie pomału
Ale prędzej dostanę tę wizę do nie wiem Bhutanu
Wróć nie robię nic dla szpanu
Poza byciem raperem byciem raperem byciem raperem
Nie byciem raperem i tym pierścieniem z Radżastanu
Nie mów mi nic o wygrywaniu jak go nie znasz za grosz
Twoja psycha jest jak lista Forbesa chłopcze ma dość
Przeszedłem przez każdy szczebel robiąc swoje jak gość i
Najlepszego wszystkim życzę

Podróż co prowadzi od Polski aż po Nowy Jork
Piszę teksty i nagrywam rap
Zapierdalam wciąż
Prawdziwy hip hop w waszych żyłach płynie nonstop
KRS Que
Płyniemy pod prąd
Podróż co prowadzi od Polski aż po Nowy Jork
Piszę teksty i nagrywam rap
Zapierdalam wciąż
Que KRS ONE
Ciary na plecach
Nowy wymiar i definicja nowojorskiego brzmienia

Kiedyś Mobb Deep i 2Pac pierwsze Doggi od Snoopa
Dziś leci masa młodych masa nowych sporo słucham
Powiedz To się wyklucza wjeżdżam jak Kobe na dwutakt
Skurwysyńsko wyjątkowy jakbym kupił nowy Wu Tang

I'm an artist from the start hip hop guided my heart
Watch and learn
We ain't gon' stop
Beats rhymes and lyrics that's my life
Real hip hop that's what I rock
Podróż co prowadzi od Polski aż po Nowy Jork
Piszę teksty i nagrywam rap
Zapierdalam wciąż
Prawdziwy hip hop w waszych żyłach płynie nonstop
KRS Que
Płyniemy pod prąd

[Verse 1: KRS-One]
Too many critics and not enough rhymes
This was fake, that was real, KRS, I bust lines
Get mine, yeah it's the Teacha blazing your speaker
First I want to shout Quebonafide
With KRS-One we runnin' a double feature
Rappers wanna talk that shit we don't need ya
Hit 'em with the heater and a hundred degrees
Who are you to tell anyone what's a real MC? Please
Critics don't get it cause critics don't spit it
Clubs they never in it butt quick to critique a lyric
"That's not real hip-hop" I don't wanna hear it
Hip-hop is real and you dudes don't come near it
Clear it, save it, the culture y'all betrayed it
Real hip-hop - the radio never plays it
No doubt, they trynna phase hip-hop out
By telling young people the cash is what it's about
That ain't real hip-hop, haters runnin' their mouths
It's real when KRS-One is in da house, yeah

[Verse 2: Quebonafide]
What kind of school is this, that it is a class like this?
I’m the new Jobs so now hush
Your fan here, Kiddo, she good cause she ours
You can eat off the floor, cause I keep knocking out, rraaa!
To Manhattan through Ciechanów, that sounds like a joke
Crowds of fans, nothin’ for fame, so please, kid, spare your shame
I wasn’t tempted here by majors or no label from my country
Now everywhere, babe, Johnny Walker is tap water
Now you started believing that it slowly won’t work out
But sooner than that I’ll get a visa to Bhutan
Come back, I ain’t doing all this for fame
Except for being a rapper, being a rapper, being a rapper
Not being a rapper and that ring from Rajasthan
Don’t tell me about winning, when you don’t know it a bit
Your psyche is like Forbes’ list, boy – it’s fed up
I climbed up the ladder doing my thing like boss
And for ya’ll I wish, all the best

[Verse 3: Quebonafide]
Back then Mobb Deep, 2Pac and the first Doggs from Snoop
Now loads of young ones, loads of new ones, they keep playing, I listen a lot
Say, this excludes itself, I come in like Kobe’s two-step shot
Motherfuckin’ exceptional as if I bought a new Wu-Tang