Big Daddy Kane

Big Daddy Kane - Show and Prove songtekst

Je score:


Verse One: Scoob



Hah hah, hey hey, laugh now nigga

My man's right behind you, Kane pull the trigger

I don't play, I'm from the hill where shit is real

And I'll be on your ass like bugs on a windshield

So bring your grip or you can think twice

Cause I got more rhymes than a five pound bag of rice

I'm hitting hard, oh word, I'm gon rock it

Once the shit drops, that's dough to the pocket

I cut hand, you still can't get no cards

You couldn't deal with Scoob if we was playin cards

But if I got beef and it's time for code red

My drill is like a hoe, and be takin mad niggaz to bed

So hurry up and skedaddle

Even if you join a army, you still couldn't battle

So where you from?  England, you somebody great?

You burnin Scoob, "I don't think so mate"

I got the style that gets you open like a bag of smoke

I have your friends "Ah-hah man, that shit ain't dope"

Leave me alone when I'm rocking on the microphone

and play like E.T. and phone your black ass ho-wome

Yo Sauce, if you're down with the groo-hoove

Get on the mic and won't ya show and prove



Verse Two: Sauce



Hey, here I come with a slick rap, tic tac toe

When I flip tracks, so gimme my dick, back

I flow to it and through it, if you ever need to wonder

how you got dope like Sauce, money you didn't do it

I write my own with bigger hope, drink of Scope

Wrote what I figured, nope, damn you dig a nigga doe

Rhymes too drastic, bastard, pull hookers like elastic

N-B-A style, fann-tastic

No time to bite, but I just might, tonight I write left-handed

cuz I like, to grab my dick with my right

Who could ever say that I don't get plenty play

Win Lose or Draw, I'm bookin whores, anyway

As I get ready I'm steady if I go crazy I'd take Eddie

if I was Fred, I think I'd have to bone Betty

Suckin and luckin, hey, niggaz I'm duckin, nay

Nada no never meaning ain't no motherfuckin way

Rappers get gassed come on and get fast

Try to get past when I blast, and you can HAND over your ass

One line and that's fear

Rappers get so damn pussy they gotta go for a pap smear

So Shyheim, if your down with the groove

Get on the mic it's time to show and prove



Verse Three: Shyheim



Yo, yo

I spark the mic like weed that's in a cipher

And I get girls open like a reggae song by Tiger

So check me out, as I flip this here track kid

And make mad noise like a Metallica record

I'm psycho, a villain to the styles I be killin

when I'm thrusted, and all competition gets dusted

Cause I rock the world from U.S.A. to Asia to Russia

If your shit stinks I'ma flush ya, then bust ya

Like a crazy man from Cali son

My jams be packed like a Farrakhan rally, what?

You know my style, I put the F in effin foul

The Rugged Child locks you down like Rikers Isle

And got more girls than a Trailerload with Shabba

More Super than Cat, I'm the punani Don Dada

So Big Daddy, if you're down with the groove my man

Get on the mic and won't ya show and prove



Verse Four: Big Daddy Kane



Now tell me whoooo is the mannnn?

With the high-potent lyrics no rapper can ever stand

And steppin to me, thinkin I can be touched?  Huh

Not even Michael Jordan'll gamble that much, yo

I get down on it and give it to rappers that even act like they want it

I come for your title kid, run it!

Or else get hit with the ultimate, too legit skit

Ahh yeah, that's that shit

Drop lyrics on ya, strong as ammonia

That is I thrown ya, scold ya, Jones ya, I tried to warn ya

You was wack since I known ya, fake as a cubic zirconia

What did I just show ya, real lyrics doggone ya

Look inside my rap book at every text my man

and see that I got, more essays than the Mexican

The Messiah that's feared great, leavin rappers in a weird state

Scared straight, for their prepared fate

Strong as an elephant, intelligent, compelling and elegant

So well in it with every single element

And competition gets none!  Huh

If I was wearing pantyhose you still couldn't give me no run

I see the way you're trying to get to me, 

but with with speech impedi-ment, man you gotta come better G

You're hitting all the wrong switches troop begin again

Mumble mouth rappers couldn't last a minute with

The non-resistable, non-competible

No-No-I'm-Not-Sayin-I'm-The-Best, I'm just sayin I'm fuckin incredible!

And let's just make one more thing understood

That if I FART on a record, TRUST me nigga it'll sound good

So Jay-Z, if you're down with the groove, my mellow

Get on the mic it's time to show and prove



Verse Five: Jay-Z



Uh, one checkin it two, checkin it three

Check out the J, check out the A, check out the Y, check out the Z

Hey G!

I'm breaking MC's up like EPMD

And these nuts if you rappers tryin ta see me

I'm buckwild with styles, ta-dow

I've been in it runnin a hundred miles I'm well endowed, baby gal

Uhh, the greatest nigga to touch it, you niggaz can't fuck with

The, incredible skills of the G from Brooklyn, big up kid

And ain't no eatin me up, you fast fuckin with jigga

I'm like Prince jeans, I bring the ass out a nigga

When I rock it it's in the pocket, baby mop it don't knock it

till you try it, once you start, you can't stop it

I'm the cocky breed, I'm dope like poppy seed

I live one rent from besides that be 

between get off my dick and stop jockin me

When I bust a rhyme you're diggin the sound

I know you lovin the way it's, goin down baby

So Ason huh, if you're down with the groove, why don't ya

Get on the mic and show and prove



Verse Six: Ol Dirty Bastard



Come on

Wu-Tang killa bees on a swarm

Rain on your college ass, disco dorm

Slippery when wet and don't you ever forget

You couldn't get a FLICK, of the hype outfit

Because the way that I dress this style mad wild

Enough to make a crowd of women scream "OW!"

Whether at a party or just in bed

All thoughts on Ason, keep that in your head

Yuh, my beats are funky and my rhymes are spunky

Sometimes I'll be like "Well god damn what's the recipe?"

I don't know, I ask my momma she don't know

she says "GO ASK YOUR GOD DAMNED FATHER!"

It's all about me in the place to be

Niggas thing they all that, yo, that shit is G

Mad game and it's a motherfucking shame

How many enemies wanna claim the name

Of Ason, who carries on like a manager

YO!, SOUNDS FLY RIGHT? DANGER!!!
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden