[Chorus] Duty is called, Im leaving you once more I will be back, right back when Im off from the tour The tour is your Duty is called for the raw and the raw one is me Its me you see All of them told me Kris youre to old b When they step to the mic None of them could hold me [Verse 1] Rhymes never running out, you know what KRS about Im all up in the game like Jordan when his tounge is out The streets is mine these youngins busting is buggin out You dont see no stars when the sun is out Im coming out Who you think the sun round here? All that soft thug pop shit know but dont get done round here Im only making my uniqueness krisstyle clear So your head, I dont have to put a missile there I do preach peace tho, I am hip hop But when the Glock pops your brain goes into a dropbox I keep the crowd jumping like hopscotch in the party Im the dopest emcee and im dressed like anybody I show up, wanna fight, unshaven naughty Battle a platinum rapper and take his Bugatti Sell it in the hood, provide for everybody Next week another rapper giving up a Ferrari [Chorus] [Verse 2] What they call dope today is wack, Im sorry Im raw, sushi style I spit the wasabi Im at the corner store, gas station shopping Go where these other rappers really be at I dont know But everywhere our crews at people want the boom bap Boom bap and we aint taking nothing from no new cats But KRSOne I come from where your shoes at Where your soul at, this that real street new jack Whos that, the masta with the blasta I dont write song for cash, I write songs that last They call me the teache cuz Im from a different class I preserve hip hop These the the two kings, these are the greatest These youngers claiming king and aint even made this When the true king touchdown you know it No talk, no hype, just skills and we show it [Chorus]
bap, raw, duty, teache, blasta