Ruff Ruff by Boogie Down Productions
[krs-one] * voice echoing*
Think you dope? want this title?
Then you better come step up or step off!
[freddie foxxx]
Yo check this out, all jokes aside
Let's get busy
[krs-one]
Word! blastmaster krs-one in the house
Hah, everybody for some reason wanna be a gangsta
You don't know nuttin about bein no gangsta
[freddie foxxx]
Worrrrrrrd up! aiyyo check this out
This is freddie f-o-x-x-x
And guess what's next
[krs-one]
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi chat
Every posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi chat
Every posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
Every posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
They jump pon the mic, an' wan fi do it like dat
But ahh, now dis a krs, me nah takes dat
When me open up to work, I put a cape on me back
Then me, fly all around the emcee world
Krs, the artical, is not to be [*changes from patois*]
Fucked with,? with, or tampered with
Don't give a fuck if you wanna riff
But when you say kris, already derivative of kris
My eyebrows lift and that ass I get with (huh)
As a matter of fact, I attack, hijack
Set back, your career, like a quarterback
That broke his back, my tongue is like a bat
Your eye'll get black, you'll need an icepack (rrrrruff!)
I'm all that, come with your whole pack
You'll be prayin to the God of isaac
So freddie foxxx, it's time to get tough [uh-huh]
Just, get on the mic and get ruff, ruff
[freddie foxxx]
Soon as I flex, cause I'm about to rip up shop
It's the return of the hip-hop master, freddie the foxxx
(bo!) rappers that see me, don't even speak, just walk
Cause I'm the maddest nigga in new york (hah!)
I see a rapper in the crowd that I don't like
I wanna fight, so when I drop the mic
I'ma jump off the stage, bumrush your crowd to whip
(suckers) that wanna be pimps
How I heard it said that a pimp'll sell his ass
If his hoe won't, but freddie foxxx don't
Cover your chest g, you better wear a bulletproof vest see
Cause I'm about to leave this place a motherfuckin mess
Open hearts on the floor as I explore
Rappers that wanted to be more than number four
Number one's a hard spot; either you fight
Or get shot, so this is what I got (bo!)
Three tec-9's, my uzi, ten grenades, my razor blades
And I aim to get paid!
So who wanna step to this, don't come soft
Cause i'ma straight up knock niggaz off (pom! pom!)
And when the cops come to get me
I'ma take a dead body, and bop ten cops with me
I'm sick and tired of hearin rappers talk smack
About who's nice, and who's whack, motherfuck that
They know my style, and my rep, every stage
That I stepped on - I was the rapper they slept on
But y'all rappers keep sleepin - cause when they plant
Bombs in your house, i'ma wake you up and punch you
In your motherfuckin mouth, knock your wife out
Take your sons to safety, cause they're just kids
And I wanna raise em to face me
And when they get a little bigga
I'ma mark them little niggaz, and put their fingerprints
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