I'm Still #1 Lyrics - A Retrospective - Krs One

[Verse 1] 

D.J. Doc you know he's down with us 

D-Square, he's down with us 

Keyboard Money Mike, is down with us 

I.C.U., you know he's down with us 

D-Nice and McBoo, they're down with us 

Ms. Melodie, she's down with us 

Just-Ice and DMX, they're down with us 

My manager Moe, he's down with us 

Castle-D boy, he's down with us 

D.J. Red Alert, he's down with us 

Robocop boy, he's down with us 

Makin' funky music is a must 

I'm number one. 

People still takin' rappin' for a joke 

A passing hope or a phase with a rope 

Sometimes I choke and try to believe 

When I get challenged by a million MCs 

I try to tell them, "We're all in this together!" 

My album was raw because no-one would ever 

Think like I think and do what I do 

I stole the show, and then I leave without a clue 

What do you think makes up a KRS? 

Concisive teaching, or very clear speaking? 

Ridiculous bass, aggravating treble 

Rebel, renegade, must stay paid 

Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits 

Causing me to take long trips 

I'm the original teacher of this type of style 

Rockin' off-beat with a smile 

Or smirk or chuckle, yes some are not up to 

BDP Posse so I love to 

Step in the jam and slam 

I'm not Superman, because anybody can 

Or should be able to rock off turntables 

Grab the mic, plug it in and begin 

But here's where the problem starts, no heart 

Because of that a lot of groups fell apart 

Rap is still an art, and no-one's from the Old School 

'cause Rap is still a brand-new tool 

I say no-one's from the Old School 'cause Rap on a whole 

Isn't even twenty years old 

Fifty years down the line, you can start this 

'cause we'll be the Old School artists 

And even in that time, I'll say a rhyme 

A brand-new style, ruthless and wild 

Runnin' around spendin' money, havin' fun 

'cause even then, I'm still number one. 

[Verse 2] 

Blastmaster KRS-One of course 

Comes to express with style the lost 

Ways of rhyming, old and new, past and present 

Knock, knock, who is it? 

A brand-new style, hup, time to change 

People talk about me when they see me on stage 

Live in action, guaranteed raw 

I hang with the rich and I work for the poor 

Now tomorrow you can say you saw 

KRS-One stompin' once more 

I play by ear, I love to steer 

The Alfa Romeo from here to there 

I grab the beer, but not in the ride 

'cause I'm not stupid, I don't drink and drive 

I'm not a beginner, amateur or local 

My album is sellin' because of my vocals 

You know what you need to learn? 

Old School artists don't always burn 

You're just another rapper who's had his turn 

Now it's my turn, and I am concerned 

About idiots posing as kings 

What are we here to rule? 

I thought we were supposed to sing 

And if we oughta sing, then let us begin to teach 

Many of you are educated, open your mouth and speak 

KRS-One is something like a total renegade 

Except I don't steal, I rhyme to get paid 

Airplanes flyin', overseas people dyin' 

Politicians lyin', I'm tryin' 

Not to escape, but hit the problem head-on 

By bringin' out the truth in a song 

So BDP, short for Boogie Down Productions 

Made a little noise 'cause the crew was sayin' somethin' 

People have the nerve to take me for a gangster 

An ignorant one, something closer to a prankster 

Doin' petty crimes, goin' straight to penitentiary 

But in a scale of crime that's really elementary 

This beat is now compelling me to explain in silence 

Why my last jam was so violent 

It's simple: BDP will teach reality 

No beatin' around the bush, straight up, just like The P Is Free 

So now you know, a poet's job is never done 

But I'm never overworked, 'cause I'm still number one.