Tim Dog — I Get Wrecked

[KRS One] Pop pop pop pop! Go uptown, go uptown, go uptown, go uptown [in the background while Tim Dog starts speaking] [Tim Dog] Yeahhhh, ha hah, you have been warned The Boogie Down boys are gonna get ya [KRS One] That's right, boy! You are now jammin' to the sounds of the Boogie Down Hit 'em like this Oooh! [Chorus: Tim Dog (KRS-One in parenthesis)] Yeah, yeah, yeah Can I get a yes? (yes!) Can I get a motherfuckin' yes? (yes!) Do I grab the mic and get respect? (yes!) Lyrically I can get wrecked? (yes!) Okey! But can I get a oh? (oh!) Can I get a motherfuckin' oh? (oh!) Do I get wreck at every show? (oh!) Lyrically I got the flow? (oh!) So here we go! [Verse 1: KRS-One] What does KRS and Tim Dog have in common? We both hate corny ass soft commercial rhymin I don't sound like Phyllis Hyman or the Winans I rock Central Park but do not mistake me for Paul Simon I can't hear nothin but wreck, do not force me I can't hear Fred Astaire , Cher, Tommy Dorsey you lost me Pure hip-hop rhymes beats I see Singers dressed like rappers kickin love songs you can keep Give me the boom bap when I kick my rap No need for background singers and dancers, fuck all that What you see you see, what you hear you hear When you cheer and you cheer, I'm every fresh MC's nightmare The instrumental is fundamental and essential When I practice I get sharp like a pencil But the pencil's made of oak, so don't provoke You'll get broke, whaddya take I am, a joke? I'm radical, mathematical If I have static I'll pick up the mic or automatic either way I won't have it I cover the whole gam-it Mic I'll rap it, leaving with your ass out like a faggot This is a losing battle you're like cattle The sound of my name KRS makes your tail waggle Better yet, you're a snake so it rattles I'll dice you up like an apple Smash you into Snapple I'm not, the one you wanna battle that bad Off the skin of your ass I'll make a shoulder bag I bring the blade all around By the time I'm done you'll be $2.99 a pound [Verse 2: Tim Dog] Coming from the butcher shop Fuck with KRS and the Dog and get chopped Chopped, say stop, (STOP!) say stop (STOP!) 'Cause I'm true to hip-hop while others flip-flop Till they hit the tip-top, now it's time to get props Wack MC's I just tax I'll eat tracks, shit it out with Ex-Lax Bitch ass niggas step aside Tenderoni rappers meet your homicide To all you non-believers, here's the menace side Genacide, come inside, you're goin on a murder ride I'm energetical, theoretical, copacetical, alphabetical Hypothetical yeah that is cool, no I'm not a fool Takin you to school, don't be late for school, fool I'm fuckin your girl while your ass in school Fool, wipe off the drool, 'cause I'm too cool I'm the man with lyrics that jam Kickin MC's in the face like Van Damme Shazam, hot damn, thank you ma'am Don't eat Spam or no types of ham You thought I fell off? You're smokin somethin You thought I was soft? You on dope or somethin You must be on a can of dope or dog food You actin real rude Don't ya know I'm Tim Dog dude? So go ahead and flex, if you got next But when I get the mic I get wreck So come on, come on, come on, come on I'll eat that ass, that's word is born Rarrrrrgh! [Chorus: Tim Dog (KRS-One in parenthesis)] Can I get a yes? (yes!) Can I get motherfuckin' yes? (yes!) Do I grab the mic and get respect? (yes!) Are you the king, the K the R the S? (yes!) Okey! But can I get a oh? (oh!) Can I get a motherfuckin' oh? (oh!) Do we get wreck at every show? (oh!) Lyrically we got the flow? (oh!) There you go! [Verse 3: KRS-One] Now don't say nuttin while I'm deckin ya 'Causin hysteria, I've been in more battles than America Rap messenger, comin' in quick I pick up the music and watch 'em stagger Rip another verse and watch his body splatter Whether you like me or not don't matter Kris is not a actor I'll burn your favorite rapper and leave him in stitches Weak bitches Real renegade rap rebels rip rhymes ferociously Which one of these pussy MC's can go at me? So if you wish to play me like a farmer I get calmer, chop ya ass up like Jeffrey Dahmer My psychopathic fantastic classic puts you in a casket On top of that, you can get your ass kicked Quick, awww shit I’m physically fit and admit'n I’m lyrical lickin' And I got more rhymes than Madonna gets dick And I'm the lyrical lunatic, that flips all scripts with the quickness Yo I get heated like cough mentholyptus now The microphone I must feel it, I must touch it up Kris One and Tim Dog's come to fuck it up Evidently I bust shots till the Glock is empty No safety, pull the trigger tip don't try to chase me Down, chase the sound you must be buggin This is Boogie Down, Boogie Down, Boogie Down Boogie Down Boogie Down Produc-tions Jump around be the one is the function Tim Dog, why don't you show em a little somethin [Verse 4: Tim Dog] Baby baby um, maybe maybe um You better run, cause you know I have a gun Bang bang boogie, up jumps the boogie Take that bullshit rap down the street A skippedy be bop be bop, Scooby Doo That bullshit's not me, that bullshit is you I come correct, get much respect Do some hummina hummina shit, and still get wreck 'Cause I'm the Dog, the muthafuckin Dog ya hear I'm the Dog, the muthafuckin Dog ya hear MC's come close but never could get near 'Cause I just smash, throw MCs through glass Take his cash, whip his ass, and do a yard dash So take your ass home, write a poem And when you get nice, use the god damn phone 'Cause I get buckwild, do some 'ole freestyle And beat ya down with the turnstile Doggie doggie bo boggie fanana fanna fo foggie Me mi mo moggie, doggie Rappers goin' platinum doin this bullshit I do the same shit, and make a big hit 'Cause if you don't like my lyrical flow I gotta make dough, don't cha know, ya little ho- Mo- sexual I bet you will Be on the dick if it turns into a hit But that type of shit is jumpin' the fuck off So I do the same, now I'm comin' off So don't get upset if you can't get lyrical respect Don't get mad, get wreck [Outro: Tim Dog] Yeahhh! This track has been dedicated to real hip-hop The lyrics Peace to all the true hip-hop followers out there Peace to the Zulu Nation Peace to Willie D and the Boogie Down Production posse And peace to the South Bronx Peace! (echoes)