Boogie Down Productions - My Philosophy Lyrics

So, you're a philosopher
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
I think very deeply, I think very deeply, I think very deeply
I think, I think, I think very deeply
In about 4 seconds, a teacher will begin to speak
I think very deeply

Let us begin, what, where, why, or when
Will all be explalined like instructions to a game
See I'm not insane, in fact i'm kinda rational
When I be asking you, who is more dramatical
This one, or that one, the white one or the black one
Pick the punk and i'll jump up to attack one
KRS ONE is just the guy to lead a crew
Right up to your face and diss you
Everyone saw me on the last album cover
Holdling a pistol, something far from a lover
Beside my brother, S-C-O-T-T
I just laugh, cause no one can defeat me
This is lecture number two, my philosophy
Number one, was poetry, ya know it's me
This is my philosopy, many artists gotta learn
I'm not flammable, I don't burn
So please, stop burning, and learn to earn respect
'Cause that's just what KR collects
See, what do you expect, when you rhyme like a soft punk
You walk down the street and get jumped
Ya gotta have style, and learn to be original
And everybody's gonna wanna diss you
Like me, we stood up for the South Bronx
And every sucker MC had a response
Ya think we care, I know that they are on the tip
My posse` from the Bronx is thick
In real real life, we roll correctly
A lotta suckers would like to forget me
But they can't, 'cause like a champ I have got a record
Of knocking out the frauds in a second
On the mic, I believe that you should get loose
I haven't come to tell you I got juice
I just produce, create, innovate on a higher level
I'll be back but for now just seckle

In about 4 seconds, a teacher will begin to speak

I'll play the 9, and you play the target
Ya all know my name so I guess i'll just start it
Or should I say start this teaching
I'm the artist, styles and new concepts at their hardest
Yo 'cause i'ma teacher, and Scott is a scholar
It aint about money, 'cause we all make dollars
That's why, I walk with my head up
When I hear wack rhymes I get fed up
Rap is like a setup, a lot of games
A lot of suckers with colorful names
I'm so-and-so, I'm this, I'm that
But they're all just whick, whick, WACK
I'm not white, or red, or black
I'm brown, from the boogie down, productions
Of course, our music be thumpin'
Others say they're bad, but they're buggin'
Let me show ya somethin' now about hip hop
About D-Nice, Melody, and Scott LaRock
I get a pen, a pencil, a marker
Meaning what I write is for the average New Yorker
Some MCs be talkin' and talkin'
Trying to show how black people are walkin'
But I don't want this way to portray
Or reinforce stereotypes of today
Like all my brothers eat chicken and watermelon
Talk broken English and drug selling
See I'm telling, and teachin real facts
The way some act in rap, is kinda wack
And it lacks creativity and intelligence
But they don't care, 'cause their company's selling it
It's my philosophy on the industry
Don't bother dissing me, or even wishing we
Soften, dilute, or commercialize all the lyrics
'Cause it's about time one of yall hear it
And hear it first hand from an intelligent brown man
A vegetarian, no goat, or ham, or chicken, or turkey or hamburger
'Cause to me, that's suicide, self-murder
Let us get back to what we call hip hop
And what it meant to DJ Scott LaRock

You're a philosopher, I think very deeply
In about 4 seconds, a teacher will begin to speak

How many MCs must get dissed
Before somebody says don't fuck with Kris
This is just one style out of many
Like a piggy bank, this is one penny
My brother's name is Kenny, that's Kenny Parker
My other brother, ICU is much darker
Boogie Down Productions is make up of teachers
The lecture is conducted from the mic into the speaker
Who gets weaker, the King or the teacher
It's not about a salary, it's all about reality
Teachers teach and do the world good
Kings just rule, and most are never understood
If you were to rule or govern a certain industry
All inside this room right now would be in mysery
No one would get along, nor sing a song
"Cause everyone'd be singing for the King, am I wrong
MC Yo, what's up, it's me again
Scott LaRock, KRS, BDP again
Many people had the nerve to think that we would end the trend
With Criminal Minded, an album which is only ten
Funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit records
No more than 4 minutes and some seconds
The competition checks and checks, and keeps checkin'
They take the album, take it home and start sweatin'
Why, well it's simple, to them it's kinda vital
To take KRS ONE's title
To them I'm like an idol, some type of entity
In everybody's rhyme they wanna mention me
Or rather, mention us, me and Scott LaRock
But they can get bust, get robbed, get dropped
I don't play around, nor do I F-around
And you can tell by the bodies are left around
When some clown jumps up to get beat down
Broken down to his very last compound
See how it sounds, a little unrational
A lotta MCs like to use the word dramatical
Fresh, for '88 YOU SUCKERS!