D.I.T.C.
Drop it Heavy
[Intro: KRS-One]
That's right, on any beat we sale
Don't put your money on bail, put it on Full Scale
Ha ha, never fail, KRS

[Verse 1: KRS-One]
I'd rather have a hundred-thousand true heads by me
Than one million of your fake fanatics behind me
I keep it grimy, chase me, you will never find me
I take you out in two or three minutes, you can time me
You the dopest MC? I leave that ass sizzlin
I'm givin more rhythm than gang rapes in prison
You small time, you ain't a pro
Yeah you kick the raw rhymes, but your show and your flow
That's all mine
Oh silly me, if I call on my lyric ability
I'll bring it right, straight to your jaw, free delivery
Get wit me, now I spit rap
I represent peace and knowledge, but I will contradict that!
Click-a-click clap
You don't wanna battle me, you wanna scat away
I battle Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday
Wait, let me check the schedule again, Saturday
I think you oughta follow your squad, they ran thataway
These rappers be played out, spaced out, no format
Now why would you place your money on that?
I drop more bars than Sing-Sing, cha-ching!
Real teachers teach real things
I brings knowledge and skill, you should try to get with it
Challenging knowledge only means that ya ignorant
With the Sword of Justice, your throat I'm stickin in
Gossip and scandal, I don't put my lips in it
Grow up, I'm movin like a U-Haul truck
You all stuck cuz you all suck, duck duck buck buck buck
Forget the cut hops, your luck stops
I bring it to your buttocks, with nuff Glocks
[Verse 2: Big Pun]
Yo, my squad is honored like Elijah Muhammed
But I'm God-retarded, ain't no righteousness in this heart of violence
Hard as diamond but I'm in the ruff, listen up
If you ever see me wit the Feds you can bet it's in the cuffs
Ain't no snitchin us, bitchin us
Unofficial-ness, everything we are, side you wish you was
Official thugs in the drug profession
Drug connections, drug addictions
Still seein the judge for drug possession
The four-D's, all these is more reas
To either get big, leave or let live
We the best there is TS, ain't nobody else
We probably Dove cuz we all way on top of the shelf
I'm lockin your wealth wit the master keys, freeze
Don't try to breeze, I'mma squeeze and blast the back of your knees
Just pass the cheese, please don't test the toaster
My tech'll roast ya body faster than Ferrari's Testarosta
You're gettin closer to death, Reaper's got a hold on your breath
You goin straight to hell as you sell your soul for your flesh
You was posin a threat, now you froze in the bed
Minute ago, you was poppin shit, holdin ya dick
Now what's the problem, you ain't nuttin like you said on your album
I thought you was wildin, bustin your guns and runnin the island
You wasn't violent, you was silent tryin to get college credits
How pathetic, did it to get out of the calisthenics
I'm dianetics combined wit lyrics
My matureness is my insurance, kill my appearance, I'm a shinin spirit
You gotta fear it, cuz every last gem is poison
You gotta cheer it, if you can't win you better join em
I'm head-annointin n***as like the Holy Gospel
I'm the only voco to walk and smoke you wit fire-blowin nostrils
Watch for the toast, when you see it you better draw yours
Warlords, callin The Giant, it's all yours
[Verse 3: A.G.]
Now check flacco, siete quato rocks in my music note
It don't take a lot for you to go
There's a lot that you should know
Like I rock the future flow
I can't be stopped, refuse to go, and still great, Show
Dug in the milk crates, so we label this cream
Plus my vocals, now we able to gleam
A's-Team used to be local, now we get love from mainstream
Rock from Shanghai to Beijing, stay high's the main theme
Used to have a crush on Regine when she was Tootie
Rappers actin fruity, tryin to black and blue me
He must be actin a movie
I'm dirty, like double-platinum in a hooptie
Now let's double back for these groupies
Back up behind the ropes, Show and A come through
We the real Killers, y'all Replacements for John Woo
This is "Full Scale" shit here, the weak disappear
They only eat in our off-years, check the CD, it's all there
You'll be bustin the speaker, puffin the reefer
Can't spit like I spit so you get hype and bust your heater
Heard your chick's on my dick, I would love to meet her
Hit it, and toss it like it ain't nuttin either
And catch you on the rebound like Dennis
My sound sells in and out of town
This a chemistry and I got it now
They wanted Six's for the Range but I got 'em down
To twenty and a brick, now I'm out wit this money and shit