Do you know, what you're goin through?
 Do you like this style of rap that I'm showin you?
 The way I flow for you.. do you know?

 [Kane *rapping*]
 Yeah baby c'mon
 Ah baby baby c'mon, check the rhyme to the song
 Uhh, aw yeah baby c'mon
 Ah baby baby c'mon, and check the rhyme to the song
 One double nine to the four, gotta keep em on the floor
 and put some real lyrics back in the hardcore
 What I'm used to hearin, I can't believe it's gone
 But now just like a grill inside Burger King, the beef is on
 When I come, rappers begin to speak in degrees
 I even make Sisters With Voices _Weak in the Knees_
 So run for your lives, Kane with the pen
 is like Freddy with the glove full of knives
 Who wanna test these skills, come see how it feels
 I pull you one verse, if that don't kill I got refills
 You can't do me none, kid you gets nothin
 If my rhymes was in braille, you still couldn't touch em
 Man, I'm a bad cat, my style of rap is mad fat
 And you know, sometimes it's so sad that
 Rappers today be comin as the gangster rhyme type
 And be so soft, they wouldn't even kill time right
 Here's the news, you lettin the word hardcore be misused
 You ain't never paid dues
 Be for real, you ain't tough yet
 The razor bumps on your throat is the only thing makin you a ruffneck
 Your whole image is a dammmmmmmmn sham
 I'm glad in this business I didn't forget who I am
 I always remain the Kane inside a battle
 *singing* Never to walk in anyone's shadow
 I do my own thing, I do a thing of my own
 And with my competition I let it be known
 that battles I don't lose none, boy you get bruised son
 Six million ways to die -- choose one!
 My rap style is like a poisonous vemon
 We might as well be havin sex, the way that I put it in em
 And do I crush MC's - are you kiddin me?
 If rappers were grapes, I'd have a whole wine distillery
 So, I bring it to your face, with the bass, then I BLOW
 a rapper off the map, with the rap, when I FLOW
 then hit you with the skill that is ill, and I KNOW
 that all of this is good to go, cause yo
 that's the way the flavor always come
 The rhymes they flow accordin to the drum
 The Brooklyn style caue that is where I'm from
 You want the funk so let me give you some
 I flip on the flow on the track, just like that
 Amazin the people the style of the rapppin, is quite fat
 I'm lickin the lyrics and shootin the gat, on the mic black
 And this is for all of the rappers that like, and they bite that
 The Smooth Operator is mellow with the saxophone
 Settin the tone that make the girls relax and moan
 Cause all the ladies I'm givin em lots of love
 Hittin more skins than a boxing glove, good God
 The girls treat me like the drummer and give me some
 From tall to short to thick, even the slimmie ones
 Watch out Goldie! Gimme a forty ounce of Olde E
 and none of you players can control me
 You get the chance to see a true mack man
 with skills to pay the bills, to make more stacks than
 taller than anybody else's stacks it seem
 Cause the Kane get more paper than a fax machine
 The unforgettable, rhymes are too poetical
 Keep rappers in order more than letters put alphabetical
 And I hope the record consumers don't believe the magazine rumors
 Cause Kane is makin a comeback, like Puma's!
 I get rough G, and set it on your whole damn company
 and Bogart, like my name was Humphrey
 When I get through, there'll be no more of them
 As many rappers I burnt, I should open a crematorium
 I make mad MC's give me my P's
 If you try to disrespect, kid you can get these
 N-U-T's, like the U-N-V's
 I leave you down on your knees, down on your knee-heeees!
 Razor sharp, many ways of art
 Source rings the chart, people praise the God
 for kickin the flows so fantasitic and this one here
 We're callin it Lyrical Gymnastics

 Uhh, so baby baby c'mon
 Aw yeah baby c'mon, and check the rhymes to the song
 Uhh, ah baby baby c'mon
 Suki suki c'mon, and I'm gone