Текст песни Krs One - Out For Fame

I got twenty-five cans in my knapsack, crossin out the wick-wack
Puttin up my name with a fat cap
Suckers that want to be in my face I just slap that
Big respect to Artifacts, Fat Joey Crack and
Mack and, Bio, and Brim come again
With B.G. 183, recognize me
With the mad colors, I'm a fiend for spraypaint
Laugh if you wanna, I really care if you ain't
Cause you don't me see, and I don't know you
But I do know Cope2, he be gettin walls too
It's the underground community of what we call writers
Worldwide burners, gettin hotter gettin brighter
Whattup Nicer, whattup Razor, whattup Chino
Masta Ase in the place, you know we know
My man Rican, my man Zorro, taught me how to draw
In the yards of the 5 train and the 4
So when I'm on tour I represent the hardcore
I'm taggin up your blackbook sure, I'm out for the fame

"I'm writin my name, in graffiti on the wall" (repeat 4X)
* first time, minus "I'm" *
Yeah, check it out check it out check it out one time
Hip-hop music in effect one time

[KRS-One]
When I was growin up, I had no butcher baker candlestick maker
I had rubbing alcohol and carbon paper
Yeah, carbon paper and a blackboard eraser
Got me chased in the bus yards, with Rican and Nazer
Historically speakin, cause people be dissin
The first graffiti artists in the world were the Egyptians
Writing on the walls, mixing characters with letters
To tell the graphic story about their life, however
Today we do the same thing, with how we rap and draw
We call it hardcore, they call it breakin the law
There used to be a time when rap music was illegal
The cops would come and break up every party when they see you
But now the rap music's making money for the corporate
It's acceptable to flaunt it, now everybody's on it
Graffiti isn't corporate so it gets no respect
Hasn't made a billion dollars for some corporation yet, so