[Intro: KRS-One]

Music please

Yes, welcome to "Jealous One's Envy"

We'd like to thank you in advance for purchasing this product

It is a Relativity Records product, artist Fat Joe

My name is KRS-One

And of course we're gonna bring the noise 'cause we can never be toys

[Verse 1: KRS-One & Fat Joe]

Yes, I am the ultimate, uttering ultimatums for the fun of it

It appears to me you don't know who you fucking with (What?)

You can't see this with bifocals 'cause you're local

Can't hang with my vocals, better you fuck with Sonny Bono

Or Yoko Ono, but KRS, oh no no

You might think you all that but I don't give a fuck though

I'm rolling hard like God for the squad, black

Packin' them poppers, bitch, where that money be at?

Ayo, I be the show stopper, as I shine like gold

Other rappers dull like copper, the certified fake nigga dropper

Which borough is the thorough (South Bronx)

I know, do you know? Let me know I'm sayin' though

The coke connector, sweating leathers with reflectors

Don't get caught up in my sector

Or I'ma have to inject ya with a slab of this lyrical dope shit

Fake MCs and wannabes best to quote this (Yeah)

Fat Joe the true and living will prevail (What?)

Kingpin like Sonny up in Bronx Tale

Will I fail? I doubt it

I'm the nigga catching bodies, while other niggas fantasize about it

True indeed, behind my back MCs claim they can serve me

In my face they screaming, "We're not worthy!"

You's a has been, actually you ain't been

I be touring while you be home taping

So what punk, you could battle in a second

Frankly, the bottom line is where's your hit record?

You claim I'm jocking, claim I'm on your dick, where's your witness?

If I'm on your dick my name has got to be syphilis

[Chorus]

"If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your luck" - Jeru

"Up up up and away 'cause I don't play clown" - Kool G Rap

"If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your luck" - Jeru

"Buck buck buck take that with ya on the way down" - Kool G Rap

[Verse 2: Fat Joe (KRS-One)]

As we proceed to lock it down, don't get it fucked up

We be the kings of the Boogie Down

All we do is spark izm and get cash

Torturing MCs like that warden up in Alcatraz (Bo! bo! bo! bo!)

It's Fat Joe, yo, you know my steelo

Get so much love, I'm payin' sixteen on a kilo

Sending niggas outta town (Uh), still got control of the Boogie Down (What?)

Now how the fuck you sound? (Yeah)

Ain't no army that could harm me or bomb me

C'mon G, you clowns ain't got a fucking thing on me

I'm flashy like white linen (Tell 'em)

Your rap is under pressure like two outs tied score in the ninth inning

I'm down with Kris and ain't no stopping me

I'm out for Bronx and Monopoly with chicks on top of me

It's "My Philosophy", puffing Ls in the corridor

Slapping cops like [?] hitting whores in my laborator'

These motherfuckers don't want it

(Word to mother, Joe, these niggas don't want it!)

[Chorus]

"If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your luck" - Jeru

"Up up up and away 'cause I don't play clown" - Kool G Rap (Yeah)

"If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your luck" - Jeru

"Buck buck buck take that with ya on the way down" - Kool G Rap

[Verse 3: KRS-One]

Mercy, you wanna serve me but you ain't worthy

My style is too curvy, what you telling me?

Bet your flimsy ass will go home after the battle and fondle your balls

With KRS-One up in your memory (Yeah)

I know your kind, you act like

You're Mr. John Gotti the Don, but you're just another bwotty mon

Telecro bwotty mon, how you collect

Rap magazine dating back to Tougher than Leather (Word)

The only reason you got such an extensive rap collection

'Cause most of your rap mags are all stuck together

Watch what you say (Uh), watch what you said

When your skull gets cracked, what you gonna say crackhead? (What?)

Your file is dead, kneel to the rap God in bed

Before I slap you way "Back in the Days" like Ahmad

Don't get me fed up or vexed up 'cause you'll get set up

My crew don't let up, I be dead up in this piece (Tell em)

Recognize it's BlastMaster KRS-One

For ten years, Fat Joe, chillin on the East

[Outro]

[?]

We are now qualified to say anything

Say what?