Big Daddy Kane

Big Daddy Kane - Raw '91 songtekst

Je score:

"We gonna do a song, that you heard before.."

 [Kane]
 Here I am, R-A-W
 A terrorist, here to bring trouble to
 phony MC's, I move on and seize
 I just conquer and stomp another rapper with ease
 Cause I'm at my apex and others are below
 Nothing but a milliliter, I'm a kilo
 Second to none, making MC's run
 So don't try to step to me, cause I ain't the one
 I relieve rappers, just like Tylenol
 And they know it, so I don't see why you all
 try to front, perpetratin a stunt
 when you know that I'll smoke you up like a blunt
 I'm genuine like Gucci, raw like sushi
 To stage a rage is what rap did to me
 To make me want to create, chaos and mayhem
 Cold rock a party, until the A.M.
 I'll make a muscle, grab the mic and hustle
 While you stand dazed and amazed, I bust a
 little rhyme with authority, superiority
 And captivate the whole crowd's majority
 The rhymes I use definitely amuse
 Better than Dynasty, or Hill Street Blues
 I'm sure to score adored for more without a flaw
 Cause I get RAW!

 "R-A-W" (cut and scratched by Mister Cee 4X)

 [Kane]
 Attact, react, exact, the mack'll move you with
 a strong song as long as you groove to this
 I keep the crowd loud when you're hyped
 Do damage on stage and injure the mic
 As I shoot the gift, MC's stand stiff
 While my rhymes stick to you like Skippy and Jif
 Feel my blunt fist, or my death kiss
 The rap soloist - you don't want none of this
 Supreme in this era, I reign with terror
 When I grab the mic, believe you're gonna hear a
 fascinating rhyme, as I enchant them
 So let's all sing the Big Daddy anthem
 Go with the flow, my rhymes grow like an afro
 An entertaining gain, the Kane'll never no
 problem, I could sneeze sniffle or cough
 Eeee-even if I stutter I'ma still come off
 Cause rappers can't understand the mics I rip
 They sho' nuff ain't equipped, that's why they got flipped
 But my apparatus is up to status
 Don't ask who the baddest, or cause static
 to make or break or take em, my rhymes hit the head
 Put it to bed, so watch what's said
 Save the bass for the piper, rearrange your tone
 Take a loss and be forced from the danger zone
 I get ill and kill at will
 Teachin a skill that's real, yeah no frill
 Just stand still and chill as I build
 Science I drill until my rhymes fill your head up!
 "R-A-W" -- don't even get up
 Competition shut up, cause I'm RAW!

 "Help me!" (cut and scratched 8X by Mister Cee)

 [Kane]
 The man at hand to rule and school to teach and reach
 the blind to find their way from A to Z
 and be the most and boast the loudest rap
 again, to reign your domain (YEAH KANE)
 The heat is on, so feel the fire
 come off the empire, all the more higher
 Level of depth, one step beyond dope
 The suckers all scope and hope to cope but NOPE
 cause I never let em on top of me
 I play em out like a game of Monopoly
 Let em speed around the board like an astro
 Then send em to jail for tryin to pass Go
 Shakin em up, breakin em up, takin no stuff
 but it still ain't loud enough
 So let the volume increase, never to cease
 I'ma release a masterpiece a slip of the tongue like grease
 Rippin the mic to shreds, puttin heads to bed
 Code red cause the rhymes is bein said
 by the Asiatic printer of raw poetry
 No hints or clues, you all know it's me
 I go pound for pound and round for round to clown the sound
 profound it's bound to go down, UHH
 A lyrical knockout, showin I got clout
 My comp should just drop out
 Cause none of them can see me
 I leave em Winan like their name was BeBe or CeCe
 I get RAW
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Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: Cold Chillin'

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1990

Taal: Engels

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