[KRS] Yeah that抯 the one -- yo Thor-El just just check your mic

Verse One: Thor-El

So you wanna be the million dollar man, kid what抯 your plan
Make a deal with the devil settle for a hundred grand
Not enough I call your bluff, hit you with the stuff
Deal with this and think you抮e tough, gimme a call when things get rough
You get no Vette and, if I could stay leaded
I抦 leavin rappers one-legged from fakin like the prosthetic
you抮e artificial by cripple, rap is like your pistol
Grim Reaper, I got the whistle, death I pull no tissue
Hit you, like the Mac-11, MC抯 subtract by seven
Callin callin for the reverand, lookin at hell like heaven
I抦 on the map, makin it like the crazy on the track
Oh what the hell I get my mail while I raid you til it crack

Chorus: KRS and Thor-El

H, I, P, H, O, P, we are
H, I, P, H, O, P, we are

Verse Two: KRS-One

C抦on, uhh
Dead two in the head before some A&R tell me
I must give up the streets you lift the company can sell me
What抯 the sense in being large if you can抰 take a risk?
Thinkin a risk upon a disc means you抮e written off the list
I抦 not sayin you can抰 have your fame and glory just don抰 bore me
when I come to see you live, and I paid twenty-five
That抯, crazy loot Kris is saying I don抰 play those games
Killing Rhyme Sessions is the meaning of my name
But don抰 call my name in vain, cause I will appear
And your livest MC will get slain right here
See I do the homework, and I do the extra credit
You could sell a million records, and still can抰 set it
Cause the Lex or Beem is probably just the matches and a Jeep so
I抦 sure your rap career now if they come before your people
Ohh Lord!! You can抰 be thinkin about Billboard
With the mic cord, and several thousand people just bored
Being dope live is like being insured for life
You always get called back twice, you are

Chorus 2X

Verse Three: Thor-El, KRS-One

I burn like hy-dra-cho-loric and my city got itty
He抯 terrible, Thor-El抯 incredible and terrific
Is it, that you抮e under the influence of local obvious
Rappers that die, but why, explain the obvious

No stoppin this lyrics from the esophagus
rockin strictly the hip-hop populace