No Gimmicks (Ft Krs-One) Lyrics

Artist: Lord Finesse

"LYRICSLRC.COM"
[ KRS-One ]

Lord Finesse and Blastmaster KRS-One

Lyrical styles weigh a ton

Lord Finesse, we know you got skills

Come into the cypher and build

Chill out, all MC I kill

Come down

[ VERSE 1: Lord Finesse ]

Check it out, come on, here's your chance to swing

With some ill muthafuckas, we don't dance and sing

In '95 we out-jinglin

Servin 'poetic justice' without that nigga John Singleton

I do my thing while the fans be jealin

Hey yo, I'm so dope, you better tap your man and tell him

I don't fake moves, I scrape crews, I make brothers break fool

Just give me a beat with a bass groove

I'm mad funky, ask the experts

Cause I make you bob your head until your muthafuckin neck hurt

So don't ask me to match, gee

Cause if you ain't real, I'm bringin it to your face like acne

Now rappers run scams and flim-flams

On how they be gettin loose when they rusty like a tin man

They rap fast, tryin to stack cash

But on the reel to reel, yo, they still soundin half-assed

Yellin and screamin like they got somethin

When they don't got nothin, so them niggas need to stop frontin

Talkin how they be raggin shit

When I don't know if them niggas are rappin or talkin muthafuckin Arabic

They act so ill, they no frills

They should go chill, they all mouth with no skills

When I'm around y'all feel funny

Cause I'm young makin funds like Shaquille O'Neal, money

You want any drama? You better wear plenty armor

I cut that ass like the chef at Benny Harner's

The funky man's in it to win it

We gotta keep it real yo, no muthafuckin gimmicks

Whoever make a hit they the best (That's a gimmick)

You sell records based on how you dress (That's a gimmick)

Hey yo, that tongue-twistin shit, that's kinda fresh (That's a gimmick)

What's when you're soft but you're frontin like you're stressed? (That's a gimmick)

What's when you're only into rap to get paid? (That's a gimmick)

What's when you're yellin and screamin up on stage? (That's a gimmick)

When your career is numbered by days? (That's a gimmick)

What's when your lyrical style is just a faze? (That's a gimmick)

[ VERSE 2: KRS-One ]

I guess yes y'all, to the beat y'all, bring in the street

Let me put my beeper on 'vibrate', so won't hear it beep

Representin the street, concrete what I speak, yeah, I live it

Let it be known, KRS is not about a gimmick

I grab the mic and rip it, meanwhile they stallin

I raise the mic stand, because I'm tall and I keep the crowd callin

I'm not like those other rappers talkin about the caps they peel

Punk, I battle MC's for real

Fuck a record deal when you're still into hip-hoppin

With your country ass, sound like you're still pickin cotton

You get thrown across the room in that direction, listen

The lyrical teacher's not the one you should be checkin

This is my eara, or era or eera, whatever, I'm mad clever

I shoop, you doop, you doop like Salt-N-Pepa

Lyrical terror, you should never ever come for mine

When I rhyme I clean up MC's with the fresh smell of pine

I got skills, and it shows

You could slow or speed up the tempo, your style is fake like Janet Jackson's nose

I'm sellin that real live shit, and you could get hurt

You're sellin that fake shit like the Home Shopping Network

You got a lotta rhymes to battle in a second

But frankly the bottom line is: where's your hit record?

You claim I'm jockin, you claim I'm on your dick, where's your witness?

If i'm on your dick, my name has got to be syphilis

I come with lyrical physical fitness

Two months from now you will have bit this

Watch me light that ass up like Christmas

Don't let me come out on that ass

Start flippin the lyrics I be kickin

Be hotter than curry chicken

So whether from the east or from the west

There's no other KRS

I got force

I came to your town to set it off

So when Finesse goes 'hit it'

I'll never mimick

KRS-One could never use a gimmick

When you're ridin the next rapper's dick (That's a gimmick)

When you're R&B, and then you cold flip (That's a gimmick)

Start rhymin hardcore just to get a hit (That's a gimmick)

When yout get over, but your skills ain't shit (That's a gimmick)

When you rap, but you don't have soul (That's a gimmick)

When you cross over just to go gold (That's a gimmick)

When you're not a gangster, but portrayin a role (That's a gimmick)

What's when you shape in somebody else's mould? (That's a gimmick)

[ VERSE 3: Lord Finesse ]

Man your station, cause the clan you're facin

Is steppin to you trash muthafuckas like sanitatian

I shoot and throw rhymes, the whole nine when it's showtime

(What up, kid?) Brothers know I can hold mine

On the real I got rhymes skills

When the time's ill
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