Artist: KRS-One Album: D.I.G.I.T.A.L. Song: No Wack DJs Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash [KRS-One] Word, YEAH~! So we sing [Chorus: KRS-One] Me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan' no whack deejay-uh Me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan' no whack deejay-uh Me don't like what they play, me don't like what they say Me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan'-me-don't-wan' no whack deejay-uh [KRS-One] New flow, new style, comin in BOOM BAP Who now wanna throw down, the crew's wild One flow - you go, two flows - you outta here We pros, three flows, buck through your outer gear Let's raise the fahrenheit on these DJ's we don't like You know who I'm talkin about, yo they might come on tonight They never hype, never tight, that's not polite Am I lyin? No you're quit right So tonight, I be statin facts, most DJ's are whack They be holdin back, they NBA - Never Broke a Act Yo I'm hopin that, new DJ's open rap, bring the focus back And take the crates from these fakes to the lake and throw 'em OVER that We lead 'em to freedom or poetically beat 'em up In conventions like meet 'em, see them, we plan to eat 'em up I'm bein MC'in seein and agreein that this here cut DEFINITELY will hit them up, so we sing [Chorus] [KRS-One] I SCREAM on these rappers like directors do actors Hang with computer hackers on farms and ride tractors Thug spelled backwards is GUT, drop the H If you ain't got guts and you callin yourself a thug, you a fake! Not just the guts to bust off 44 calibre Cause mad thugs turn bitch when you show that ass algebra It's like... the vexed look, the sex look The checks look, cause brothers be, scared of that textbook! You best look elsewhere, knowledge of self here Never no welfare, echinicea for health care Outrappin 'em, slappin 'em, ghetto scholar like Pun, Joey Crack and them On spraypaint we put fat caps on 'em (WORD) Up in the yard, we go to hittin it harder Then return to reprieve as mild-mannered Kris Parker The exec, signin on checks, approvin budgets But if you want it, meet me at any club, we can THUG IT [Chorus] [KRS-One] N.O.R.E. goes "WHAT WHAT," Cube goes "YEH-YEAH!" Jamaicans go "BUCK BUCK," MC Eiht goes "GYEAH~!" Master P goes "UNGHHH," Busta RHymes goes "YAH YAH" KRS-One goes "WOOP WOOP" like cop cars Cause I pull over pop stars and arrest they guitars And sentence them to the turntables, cuttin on 8 bars Shakin 'em up, rippin 'em down, brother whattup? Gimme a pound You diggin the sound I'm bringin around, shakin the ground, never a clown You know that you buggin, but you also know that you love it Somethin new and bumpin others be frontin They can't even think about, new flows and techniques They speak when the check speaks but KRS-One is direct heat [Chorus] with ad libs [Chorus] YES!!!