[Ego Trip's "Book of Rap Lists"; p. 44 + 54]



[Verse One]

Brace yourself soloists, duos, trios

It's the captain of "Hay dios mio!"

In Spanish, or English, I had to bring this

And I know that you probably think this

is a joke, so laugh, sleep on me snore

Feel the wrath of a giant, like never before

Returned to the environment to see where the fire went

I'm not sixty-five, I'm not retirin

A legend in the old school, better today

I bust a sucker in a battle, the same old way

I did when I used to, I got the juice to

Put the best you got against and they'll lose to

the Grandest-master, the Pope and the pastor

The judge and jury and if you think I am a rasta-

-farian or Jamaican, you're mistakin

I specialize in rappin, and flakin

on sucker MC's, and wannabeez

Beat me in a battle?  Nigga please!?!

Ain't no one better than, the rap veteran

And this here is just another feather in

my cap, because my rap

It sing to the beat, just like a hi-hat

You can try your damndest, to understand this

Showtime is at two, to see the Grand-est!



[Verse Two]

I don't like to boast that I'm better than most

But if you try to get beside yourself, I'll roast you

and your boy, or any MC toy

if you think you think that you can mess with the Real McCoy!

You gotta be great, to try to rate

with the hall of fame rhymes, that I create

And even if you can, they're still a flash in the pan

compared to the way I am when the mic's in my hand

MC's I'll romp - they ain't no comp!

And when they try to get familiar - I stomp

their mouth because, I'm what it is and they was

And no one does it to you like the captain does



[Verse Three]

I DJ'ed in house parties, with BSR's

Transportation for my set?  Two or three cars

Carried amps in the rain, speakers in the snow

Spent more than I made when I did a show

Played in clubs in the winter, without no heat

In dressin rooms, with rats, runnin under my feet

The blackout in '77, the city went dark

Had my whole sound system jammin in the park

Paid my dues, I'm a vet, so don't even try me

Been in parties rockin rhymes watchin bullets go by me

Sparkle Dixie, Ecstasy, Garage or the Bomb

The T-Connection, The Ready, the list goes on

Black Door, the P-A-L, the Bronx River Center

When you first heard of rap, that's where you went

to see vets like me, G-M-C

The L-O-R-D, of R-A-P



[Verse Four]

Well sometimes it's hard, bein MC God

like fightin Sugar Ray, or Matthew Sodd(?)

Tradin blow for blow with MC's you know

Lookin for the knockout or the T-K-O

But I reign supreme over those who dream

Cold Crush had the ice and I had the cream

Goin down in the books, as the one who looks

down on unrighteous rappers and MC crooks

The spot's secure, my mind is sure

What else would the people jock me for

except, maybe the fact, I'm G-M-C

or got a harem like a sheik, of Arab be

It could be because I'm tall handsome slim and brown

or the way the crowd breaks, when I get down

or how the ladies gather round when the party's over

or maybe because my name is Casanova

But whatever the story, whatever the reason

The audience I will continue pleasin

for the rest of my life, til the day I die

cause I'm the Grandmaster Caz, and you know I

am right, polite, goody-good in the night

And the chances that I'm not are less than sligh