Krs One - Tote Gunz lyrics

rate me

Yo Kenny Parker what up!

(Whooooooooooo)

KRS in the building

Yo these cats all talkin' about

They run this, they run that

Motherfucker's don't run shit

KRS-one in this piece

Ya'll wanna battle?

Let's go!

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Don't forget it)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Don't forget)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Let's take these cats back)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(What ya'll think)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Huh)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Let's show these cats Kenny)

They some hoes, watch what they say

There's pictures of they asses with price tags on Ebay

Deja vu the matrix must be havin' glitches

I could have sworn I just smashed these short bitches

You need to look up to me

'Cause right now all ya'll rhymin' right where my dick is

You just lost, you can't believe

This club is like Iraq you the U.S. you need to leave

Battle Kris? Please I'll blaze two guns

Have yo ass lookin' like Saddam's two sons

This that real shit wild

You look like some kid that got gassed after watchin' 8 Mile

Now pull up your pride neo

How'd I beat you?

Did it have anything to do with the mic I speak through

No, but if you wanna get far

Don't think you pussy

Know you are

That's why

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(That's right)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Don't forget it)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(New York)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(That's real)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(New York)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Huh)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Yeah, in case you forgot)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

Shoot out, shoot out

Everybody wind up

You doubt, you doubt

KRS, well now you fucked

Poop out, Poop out

Through your face and your gut

Waive the Glock in your boy face like what

You talk that junk, but you really all punk

I'll smash you and your man

Com'on double up

That's why I got to double pump

So I could buck buck buck buck you up

You a fan of rap

I'm the man of rap

I'm lookin' for where hip hop's next land is at

You gettin' in my way?

Where them cannon's at

First thing you get hit with is a panic attack

Then you feel the steel

Of the gat to your back

Now you wonderin' why you even said all that

You could've left KRS-one way in the back

With his conscious raps and his old school tracks

But now?

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Huh Huh)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(Huh Huh)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(That's right)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(What, ya'll forgot?)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(What, you forgot?)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

(ooooh)

I tote gunz, I make number runs

I tote gunz, I make number runs

See, I'm the same guy that spit out "You Must Learn"

And "Spiritual Minded", but ya'll are not concern

You wanna take shots at me, and disrespect

Tryin' to degrade my philosophys

*****The Beat begins to fade

But nope, ya'll crazy

I'll watch your brains ooze out like cracked jars of turkey gravy

God told me to slay thee

And imma get to it

No ifs ands buts or maybes

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Thanks to Marc