This what you call hardcore, fat gospel street gospel South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South, Bronx C'mon let's bring it back South South, Bronx Raw rhymes for raw times My albums are underground, but this blessing is all mine And when it's tour time, we open more minds You need to rethink who you think is the "Greatest of All Time" I got this -- I'm raw like Freddie Foxxx is Hardcore like The LOX is, Scott LaRock is where Tupac is Where hip-hop is, Digital-ly Underground like Shock is Oh yes -- I know where the top is But I'd rather rhyme about how crooked some of these cops is My synopsis ain't pretty I'd stay, off them plains and, out the city if I were you Do what you gotta do But while you wave them flags, remember Amadou Diallo Here's what we gotta do, follow I'll put hip-hop in you if you're hollow Those that already filled, still take swallows Goin over potholes with Tahoes You don't think I know? Huh! I'm lookin at you right now You ain't dancin in the club, you in your car, sittin down You in the crib, on the low You got them headsets on the go You just saw me at the show oh you don't know? It's the Temple of Hip-Hop, comin, with a whole different flow Yo where them hoes at? I don't know But wherever God at, I'ma go I give 'em a hard rap and a flow That's why when they call back for the show, with no video We get up and go Yo where it started at? South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South, Bronx C'mon let's bring it back South South, Bronx South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South, Bronx C'mon let's bring it back South South, Bronx Peep it out while I tell ya like this In every single hood in the world I'm called Kris It's the, truth for ya, it's the proof for ya My Cristal passes more bars than lawyers The underground sound, this is not easily found You don't need no rings to be down This is, past the platinum and gold We already had 'em, it's old Here's the truth if it be told, gather 'round Philosopher style is known to be wild If you only holdin them guns, who's holdin your child? You got to be thinkin you know that you shrinkin When the art of Navigation has been reduced to a Lincoln Change the dial! I was free then and I'm free now You free, runnin to MTV? I don't see how You know the real from the fake, you know they stealin they cake You know it ain't about the art, it's all about what they make You know the radio's late, you know they play what you hate That's why you got that Kay Slay tape, tryin to escape You know the love of the cars and the rims Tattooed arms and Timbs, are also called sins You know you got to pay for these spins You know the rap magazines be wack from beginning to the end BO South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South, Bronx C'mon let's bring it back South South, Bronx I never was a king and I'm not the Pres I'm a teacher like that reefer goin straight to your head I'm a preacher tryin to bring my people back from the dead I'm a leader tryin to keep you all away from the feds You my sister I'll be tryin to get you out of the bed I'm a philospher sayin what has got to be said I don't fill you with lead, I bring that knowledge instead Follow this dread, I'll take you from A to Zed Who am I? Just a scholar called K-R-S You can spend your money on others but they ain't blessed You can spend your money drugs and still be stressed Look around for conscious rappes yo there ain't none left I'm holdin it downbetter yet I'm holdin up Waitin for some young buck to come and sip from the cup And continue with the menu puttin new knowledge in you I got a question and a lesson cause I know what you been through But South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where it started at? South South, Bronx Yo where my people at? South South, Bronx Yo where my heart is at? South South, Bronx C'mon let's bring it back South South, Bronx The South South Bronx, boyeee