I break out in a cold sweat, rip up the whole set I'm about as bad as you can get Comin' from Bed-Stuy, that's where they do or die Forget about the lions and tigers and bears, oh my It's not a fairy tale, a myth, it's a musical uplift and I'm the wrong one to mess with I roll on rappers like a Cherokee, bake 'em up merrily just like the cooks at Sara Lee Erase, replace, disgrace, and chase, unlace your face and place a neck brace, about-face And get to steppin', because my lethal weapon is blowin' too fast, while you're slow as Catherine Hepburn What you need is a little more speed, style and flavor but it still wouldn't save ya So to the rear, step off and let the man flex cuz I can hang tighter to the groove than spandex I snatch the mic whith grace, always with a plan and Cee'll cut the recored up like Edward Scissorhands Rock the soul shack, I can't hold back Four years standin' and I still got the knack Cuz I remember when I first did it the comments that were goin' around from the next critic Like "Yeah, he sound alright, but still will he hold?" And now my black ass is still here like Billy Joel One hip-hopper that don't have to sound proper My broken English you can still distinguish And I don't have no image or no gimmicks and I don't have no bounds or no limits The Kane'll keep goin', and growin', and flowin' and showin' any MC, I got the best finesse to manifest Cuz I pull cards like some type of retard Hittin' MCs hard, and any other Rass Claaad I'm the predator to any competitor Scorchin' and damagin' and stompin' et cetera And any MC that tries to test me I'm swellin' up his jaws mor than Dizzy Gillespie Crushin' all dreams you thought were possible I turn into nightmares you have in the hospital I couldn't count the rappes I be servin' If defeat was sex, huh, I'd be a virgin My match ain't been found, movin' around, breakin' 'em down where the ground, never the clown, how that sound? Don't get gassed, cuz boy you won't last so take your crippled rhymes and put 'em in a cast You're too pathetic, bring in a paramedic to heal your sick rhymes, cuz man, you ain't poetic You're just a cheap little hooker and I gotta overlook a MC that's wack, ya little bogger And stand clear of the mic that I'm rippin' as I'm......??? And get your jury and a good defendant cuz I'm servin' a death sentence...
Compositor: Antonio M Hardy (Big Daddy Kane) ECAD: Obra #37817723