Lirik Lagu Slap Them Up - KRS One F/ Ill Will
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Intro~~~~~
[D.J. Premier]
Tellin' it like it isright about now D.J. Premier is in themotherfuckin' house and shitya know what I'm sayin'? But yoyo Krisrun that shitya know what I'm sayin'? Thatthat shitmy joint. Run that motherfucker...it's only right kid...
[KRS One]
(Do itdo itdo it...)
Drop that bassline...You want lyrics? We give ya lyrics. Check it out now, one time...
(Do it, do it, do it...)
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Gal! Will ya come slap dem up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Ill Will, slap dem up
Verse~~~~~
[Ill Will]
MC's get ate, get broken like a pretzeland get dissed if they ever try to step toThey can't take a MC with loose lipsTalk a lotta shit [but sink no motherfuckin' ships]Lyrics make bigger holes than hollow tipsWatch another rapper body get stiffJust like in church, we pass the basketas I preach over his casketFuck it, kick the body right overand say "See ya, hmm...nice to know ya"Got another rapper to seeYo Kris, bust that ass [certainly]
[KRS-One]
If you're shiverin' get off the potLet the original rapper rock the spotYou stand there and jock, goin' [mumbles]This is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to KrisChattin' foolishness, step along quick with that stupidnessIt's me rippin' this for self, where else ya lookin'?I got more rhymes than all the Jamaicans in BrooklynSo beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad undefeatedYoung boy, you can't see me, run along and make pee-peeI was rockin' rhymes when "La-Di-Da-Di" was a demoAdmit you been on my tip for years and just can't seem to let goGo, go call your mother, tell her you wanna battle KRS quickI bet the minute you get home you'll get your ass whippedCrazy ill mad styles is what I give'emNot a run-of-the-mill'em, I drill'em, I got ridiculous rhythmNone of my styles you can get with'emStill um, will um, your crew come get some so I can kill'em
[Ill Will]
Well I roll by myself but don't let it fool yaIf I got beef my crew'll damn step to yaWe don't play no games, I'll come straight to your restLift up your shirt and blast you in your chest[Well that was fresh]
[KRS-One]
A fad doesn't fill the bill, but mad skills willDon't let me have to kill you kid, god forbid stillGreed will lead your need to succeedbut your speed, your speechYour outreach is a breach of what I teachFor lyrical styles you're a leechIf I was Spanish I'd say, ["You lie like a beech"]Wow-wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow...Wow, for a amateur you really looked hardBut you're really a bitch, when you get it togethercall me, here's my cardCheck the list: you lack breath control, mental behaviourLyrical talent, imagination and flavourI got no time for amateur rhyme, you could be hurtThinkin' you're hard because you wear a gangsta T-ShirtI'll smash your wanna-be ass in the deep dirtBlack, you'll come up dizzy sayin' "How da fuck he do dat?"'cause you're yappin' like you can't be reachedIf your name ain't Arrested Development, well save your speechTime to ill, I got mad skills to fillNot a fake, I got more styles than Drake's got Tasty CakesGotta be the best Gee, don't try to test meYou'll get jacked son, even if your name is not JesseLet's be up front when I meet yaPeace, uh, I'm the motherfuckin' teacher
Outro~~~~~
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Gal! Will ya come slap dem up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Gal! Will ya come slap dem up, up, up, up, up...
(Do it, do it, do it...) x2
Yo...South Bronx, South South BronxSouth Bronx, South South...yo, UptownBrooklyn's in the house, lemme tell ya 'bout Staten IslandWhat about...Queens?
[D.J. Premier]
Tellin' it like it isright about now D.J. Premier is in themotherfuckin' house and shitya know what I'm sayin'? But yoyo Krisrun that shitya know what I'm sayin'? Thatthat shitmy joint. Run that motherfucker...it's only right kid...
[KRS One]
(Do itdo itdo it...)
Drop that bassline...You want lyrics? We give ya lyrics. Check it out now, one time...
(Do it, do it, do it...)
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Gal! Will ya come slap dem up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Ill Will, slap dem up
Verse~~~~~
[Ill Will]
MC's get ate, get broken like a pretzeland get dissed if they ever try to step toThey can't take a MC with loose lipsTalk a lotta shit [but sink no motherfuckin' ships]Lyrics make bigger holes than hollow tipsWatch another rapper body get stiffJust like in church, we pass the basketas I preach over his casketFuck it, kick the body right overand say "See ya, hmm...nice to know ya"Got another rapper to seeYo Kris, bust that ass [certainly]
[KRS-One]
If you're shiverin' get off the potLet the original rapper rock the spotYou stand there and jock, goin' [mumbles]This is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to KrisChattin' foolishness, step along quick with that stupidnessIt's me rippin' this for self, where else ya lookin'?I got more rhymes than all the Jamaicans in BrooklynSo beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad undefeatedYoung boy, you can't see me, run along and make pee-peeI was rockin' rhymes when "La-Di-Da-Di" was a demoAdmit you been on my tip for years and just can't seem to let goGo, go call your mother, tell her you wanna battle KRS quickI bet the minute you get home you'll get your ass whippedCrazy ill mad styles is what I give'emNot a run-of-the-mill'em, I drill'em, I got ridiculous rhythmNone of my styles you can get with'emStill um, will um, your crew come get some so I can kill'em
[Ill Will]
Well I roll by myself but don't let it fool yaIf I got beef my crew'll damn step to yaWe don't play no games, I'll come straight to your restLift up your shirt and blast you in your chest[Well that was fresh]
[KRS-One]
A fad doesn't fill the bill, but mad skills willDon't let me have to kill you kid, god forbid stillGreed will lead your need to succeedbut your speed, your speechYour outreach is a breach of what I teachFor lyrical styles you're a leechIf I was Spanish I'd say, ["You lie like a beech"]Wow-wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow...Wow, for a amateur you really looked hardBut you're really a bitch, when you get it togethercall me, here's my cardCheck the list: you lack breath control, mental behaviourLyrical talent, imagination and flavourI got no time for amateur rhyme, you could be hurtThinkin' you're hard because you wear a gangsta T-ShirtI'll smash your wanna-be ass in the deep dirtBlack, you'll come up dizzy sayin' "How da fuck he do dat?"'cause you're yappin' like you can't be reachedIf your name ain't Arrested Development, well save your speechTime to ill, I got mad skills to fillNot a fake, I got more styles than Drake's got Tasty CakesGotta be the best Gee, don't try to test meYou'll get jacked son, even if your name is not JesseLet's be up front when I meet yaPeace, uh, I'm the motherfuckin' teacher
Outro~~~~~
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Gal! Will ya come slap dem up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!Gal! Will ya come slap dem up, up, up, up, up...
(Do it, do it, do it...) x2
Yo...South Bronx, South South BronxSouth Bronx, South South...yo, UptownBrooklyn's in the house, lemme tell ya 'bout Staten IslandWhat about...Queens?
