This is a hauntingly beautiful song about introspection, specifically about looking back at a relationship that started bad and ended so poorly, that the narrator wants to go back to the very beginning and tell himself to not even travel down that road. I believe that the relationship started poorly because of the lines:
"Take me back to the night we met:When the night was full of terrors: And your eyes were filled with tears: When you had not touched me yet"
So, the first night was not a great start, but the narrator pursued the relationship and eventually both overcame the rough start to fall in love with each other:
"I had all and then most of you"
Like many relationships that turn sour, it was not a quick decline, but a gradual one where the narrator and their partner fall out of love and gradually grow apart
"Some and now none of you"
Losing someone who was once everything in your world, who you could confide in, tell your secrets to, share all the most intimate parts of your life, to being strangers with that person is probably one of the most painful experiences a person can go through. So Painful, the narrator wants to go back in time and tell himself to not even pursue the relationship.
This was the perfect song for "13 Reasons Why"
Only a few
will understand
and appreciate what's about to happen
Das E.F.X., come in
Well it's the super duper rhymer rhymer I'm about to set it
Niggas best forget it let it be or you'll regret it D
So what it B, the D to the fuckin' P
(Yo it's me the lyricist they fear in this as you can see)
I be's the ultimate, drop the ultra shit, fuck the other shit
Biggety buttah shit is how we comin' kid we runnin' shit
Now who you fuckin' with is Diggey Das E.F.X'n
We flexin', cause kid we got this rhyme and took effect y'all
Aye yo I figgety flow I rocket blow a nigga out the socket
Keep in mind to keep the dread, now they like my pocket, watch it
It's the rhyme fiend about a second from the crime scene
The boogie banger twisted off the lime green
Fuck a dime we, strictly fifty, the B.D.P. and Hit Squad committee
King of my city, ask my cousin Smitty, yo
Got to get the dough, got to blow the spot
Diggity Das K.R.S. East coast on lock
To corny niggas y'all get ate, my shit'll make you faint
So much platinum on my walls that I can hardly see the fuckin' paint
You think it ain't before a year and stopped recordin'
Now look we comin' back and runnin' shit like fuckin' Michael Jordan
Accordin', to my niggas in the sewer
Yo you a, corny nigga so we gots ta do ya
This for my niggaz on the block, handlin' rock like Kenny Anderson
I'm brandishin', stiggedy styles to keep M.C's vanishing
Scattering, fuck it, styles don't be mattering
My pattern's amazing son Blazing like a Saddle and
Battling's a no-no, got more Fame than Coco
I'm paid and still drips ya with a blade from my logo
So take your, style and Go-Go like D.C. niggas
Y'all know the haps we movin strapped on the East nigga
Yo, yo, well miggedy mayday, mayday, it's Crazy Drayz's payday
I riggedy wreck it eryday, kick shit like fuckin' Pele
But wait a, minute, cause we get in it for the masses
For classes, yo K.R.S. come get up in they asses
What, I say, follow me follow me
With my syllable syllable lyrical criminal
MC threats are minimal to my physical they just
Whittle and whittle away, with little and little to say
As they piddle and paddle away, they say OK
But I chop that ass up anyway
What's your handle I got mad MC heads upon a mantle
I got genuine M.C. skin sandals
I light the mic up like a candle, watch it melt
Cause when I felt lyrics you both are screamin' for help
When you hear it, you can't bear it, you can't even wear it
You oughts to just cheer it, go get it spirit
As I fa-la-la-la-la, I'm comin' with that rara
Rockin' mics when you was goo goo gaga to your momma
You wanted to battle K.R.S. when you was young you told your poppa
He slapped you in your head and said uh, uh
But you didn't heed the warning
Now I'm in the place, now I'm your face
Lookin' at your crew but they all broke out
because they nothin' but lace
K.R.S. is like mace, in your motherfuckin' face
Yo DJ Dice, tear down the place
will understand
and appreciate what's about to happen
Das E.F.X., come in
Well it's the super duper rhymer rhymer I'm about to set it
Niggas best forget it let it be or you'll regret it D
So what it B, the D to the fuckin' P
(Yo it's me the lyricist they fear in this as you can see)
I be's the ultimate, drop the ultra shit, fuck the other shit
Biggety buttah shit is how we comin' kid we runnin' shit
Now who you fuckin' with is Diggey Das E.F.X'n
We flexin', cause kid we got this rhyme and took effect y'all
Aye yo I figgety flow I rocket blow a nigga out the socket
Keep in mind to keep the dread, now they like my pocket, watch it
It's the rhyme fiend about a second from the crime scene
The boogie banger twisted off the lime green
Fuck a dime we, strictly fifty, the B.D.P. and Hit Squad committee
King of my city, ask my cousin Smitty, yo
Got to get the dough, got to blow the spot
Diggity Das K.R.S. East coast on lock
To corny niggas y'all get ate, my shit'll make you faint
So much platinum on my walls that I can hardly see the fuckin' paint
You think it ain't before a year and stopped recordin'
Now look we comin' back and runnin' shit like fuckin' Michael Jordan
Accordin', to my niggas in the sewer
Yo you a, corny nigga so we gots ta do ya
This for my niggaz on the block, handlin' rock like Kenny Anderson
I'm brandishin', stiggedy styles to keep M.C's vanishing
Scattering, fuck it, styles don't be mattering
My pattern's amazing son Blazing like a Saddle and
Battling's a no-no, got more Fame than Coco
I'm paid and still drips ya with a blade from my logo
So take your, style and Go-Go like D.C. niggas
Y'all know the haps we movin strapped on the East nigga
Yo, yo, well miggedy mayday, mayday, it's Crazy Drayz's payday
I riggedy wreck it eryday, kick shit like fuckin' Pele
But wait a, minute, cause we get in it for the masses
For classes, yo K.R.S. come get up in they asses
What, I say, follow me follow me
With my syllable syllable lyrical criminal
MC threats are minimal to my physical they just
Whittle and whittle away, with little and little to say
As they piddle and paddle away, they say OK
But I chop that ass up anyway
What's your handle I got mad MC heads upon a mantle
I got genuine M.C. skin sandals
I light the mic up like a candle, watch it melt
Cause when I felt lyrics you both are screamin' for help
When you hear it, you can't bear it, you can't even wear it
You oughts to just cheer it, go get it spirit
As I fa-la-la-la-la, I'm comin' with that rara
Rockin' mics when you was goo goo gaga to your momma
You wanted to battle K.R.S. when you was young you told your poppa
He slapped you in your head and said uh, uh
But you didn't heed the warning
Now I'm in the place, now I'm your face
Lookin' at your crew but they all broke out
because they nothin' but lace
K.R.S. is like mace, in your motherfuckin' face
Yo DJ Dice, tear down the place
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Represent the Real Hip Hop Lyrics as written by Krs One Andre G Weston
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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