[Chorus] Duty is called, I'm leaving you once more I will be back, right back when I'm off from the tour The tour is your Duty is called for the raw and the raw one is me It's me you see All of them told me "Kris you're to old b" When they step to the mic None of them could hold me [Verse 1] Rhymes never running out, you know what KRS about I'm all up in the game like Jordan when his tounge is out The streets is mine these youngins busting is buggin out You don't see no stars when the sun is out I'm coming out Who you think the sun round here? All that soft thug pop sh** know but don't get done round here I'm only making my uniqueness kris-style clear So your head, I don't have to put a missile there I do preach peace tho, I am hip hop But when the Glock pops your brain goes into a dropbox I keep the crowd jumping like hopscotch in the party I'm the dopest emcee and im dressed like anybody I show up, wanna fight, unshaven naughty Battle a platinum rapper and take his Bugatti Sell it in the hood, provide for everybody Next week another rapper giving up a Ferrari [Chorus] [Verse 2] What they call dope today is wack, I'm sorry I'm raw, sushi style I spit the wasabi I'm at the corner store, gas station shopping Go "where these other rappers really be at I don't know" But everywhere our crews at people want the boom bap Boom bap and we ain't taking nothing from no new cats But KRS-One I come from where your shoes at Where your soul at, this that real street new jack Who's that, the masta with the blasta I dont write song for cash, I write songs that last They call me the teache cuz I'm from a different cla** I preserve hip hop These the the two kings, these are the greatest These youngers claiming king and ain't even made this When the true king touchdown you know it No talk, no hype, just sk**s and we show it [Chorus]