My Life Lyrics - Krs One

Whattya think makes up a KRS? 

Whattya think makes up a KRS? 

Whattya think makes up a KRS? 

Skinny cat, young cat, with a knapsack strapped to my back 

1981 before the crack attack 

I used to let the Old English 800 suds bubble 

In the last car of the Franklin Avenue shuttle 

Brooklyn, no doubt, Wingate Park, no doubt 

Prospect Park I'm all laid out 

Homeless, my gear played out and I know this 

But I'm an MC I stay focused 

I took the shuttle to the D and wrote my rhymes in a hour 

Took the D to the E, last stop the Twin Towers 

Sittin' in the belly of the beast 

In the World Trade Organization, bein' harassed by police 

I wrote my rhymes right there on the spot 

New York City, 1984 corruption was hot 

Cats sellin' Uzi's out the Jacob Javits Center for a high price 

Let me tell you 'bout my life 

The type of shit a young black man 

Gotta go through every day of his life 

Hard times to live in, wake up in the morning 

Thank God 

The type of shit a young black man 

Gotta go through every day of his life 

Hard times to live in, wake up in the morning 

(Now it's my turn, listen) 

Eighty-five comes in, eighty-six comes in 

The marijuana with the cocaine mix comes in 

High class hustlers, I'm takin' flicks with them 

My first song's Red Alert, he's mixin' them 

This a far cry from a kid sleepin' on the bench 

Now I'm V.I.P. in the club, this don't make sense 

But it does, as I take daps and hugs 

From cats that move drugs, they say, "Kris rise above" 

Everybody knew my style, Kris was no coward 

I wanted to get in the game but my peeps wouldn't allow it 

They'd say, "Read them books and write them hooks 

Save our children, give 'em a whole new outlook" 

So I did, I lived like any street kid 

But I was handed 20 books, others were handed 20 year bids 

Still they wouldn't sell to your mother or your wife 

There was respect man, let me tell you 'bout my life 

The type of shit a young black man 

Gotta go through every day of his life 

Hard times to live in, wake up in the morning 

Thank God 

The type of shit a young black man 

Gotta go through every day of his life 

Hard times to live in, wake up in the morning 

(Now it's my turn, listen) 

1987 my career blowin' up now 

Me and Scott LaRock took the year growin' up now 

Me I'm just a private cat, whatever you perceive as live 

KRS is as live as that 

We the livest act, in eighty-eight, eighty-nine and ninety now 

But them years be far behind me now 

In ninety-one, no one can find me now 

I chose the underground to rhyme where it's grimy, wow 

Rewind me now, 13 albums for you to see 

Or catch me speakin' at them universities 

My mind stays keen, I'm hardly ever seen 

I do a lot of work, just not in the mainstream 

Know what you need to learn 

Old school artists don't always burn 

Know what you need to learn 

KRS-One, don't always burn