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Текст песни Big Daddy Kane w Scoob, Sauce, Shyheim, - Show and Prove

Big Daddy Kane w Scoob, Sauce, Shyheim, - Show and Prove слова песни

Verse One: ScoobHah hah, hey hey, laugh now niggaMy man`s right behind you, Kane pull the triggerI don`t play, I`m from the hill where shit is realAnd I`ll be on your ass like bugs on a windshieldSo bring your grip or you can think twiceCause I got more rhymes than a five pound bag of riceI`m hitting hard, oh word, I`m gon rock itOnce the shit drops, that`s dough to the pocketI cut hand, you still can`t get no cardsYou couldn`t deal with Scoob if we was playin cardsBut if I got beef and it`s time for code redMy drill is like a hoe, and be takin mad niggaz to bedSo hurry up and skedaddleEven if you join a army, you still couldn`t battleSo 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 smokeI have your friends "Ah-hah man, that shit ain`t dope"Leave me alone when I`m rocking on the microphoneand play like E.T. and phone your black ass ho-womeYo Sauce, if you`re down with the groo-hooveGet on the mic and won`t ya show and proveVerse Two: SauceHey, here I come with a slick rap, tic tac toeWhen I flip tracks, so gimme my dick, backI flow to it and through it, if you ever need to wonderhow you got dope like Sauce, money you didn`t do itI write my own with bigger hope, drink of ScopeWrote what I figured, nope, damn you dig a nigga doeRhymes too drastic, bastard, pull hookers like elasticN-B-A style, fann-tasticNo time to bite, but I just might, tonight I write left-handedcuz I like, to grab my dick with my rightWho could ever say that I don`t get plenty playWin Lose or Draw, I`m bookin whores, anywayAs I get ready I`m steady if I go crazy I`d take Eddieif I was Fred, I think I`d have to bone BettySuckin and luckin, hey, niggaz I`m duckin, nayNada no never meaning ain`t no motherfuckin wayRappers get gassed come on and get fastTry to get past when I blast, and you can HAND over your assOne line and that`s fearRappers get so damn pussy they gotta go for a pap smearSo Shyheim, if your down with the grooveGet on the mic it`s time to show and proveVerse Three: ShyheimYo, yoI spark the mic like weed that`s in a cipherAnd I get girls open like a reggae song by TigerSo check me out, as I flip this here track kidAnd make mad noise like a Metallica recordI`m psycho, a villain to the styles I be killinwhen I`m thrusted, and all competition gets dustedCause I rock the world from U.S.A. to Asia to RussiaIf your shit stinks I`ma flush ya, then bust yaLike a crazy man from Cali sonMy jams be packed like a Farrakhan rally, what?You know my style, I put the F in effin foulThe Rugged Child locks you down like Rikers IsleAnd got more girls than a Trailerload with ShabbaMore Super than Cat, I`m the punani Don DadaSo Big Daddy, if you`re down with the groove my manGet on the mic and won`t ya show and proveVerse Four: Big Daddy KaneNow tell me whoooo is the mannnn?With the high-potent lyrics no rapper can ever standAnd steppin to me, thinkin I can be touched? HuhNot even Michael Jordan`ll gamble that much, yoI get down on it and give it to rappers that even act like they want itI come for your title kid, run it!Or else get hit with the ultimate, too legit skitAhh yeah, that`s that shitDrop lyrics on ya, strong as ammoniaThat is I thrown ya, scold ya, Jones ya, I tried to warn yaYou was wack since I known ya, fake as a cubic zirconiaWhat did I just show ya, real lyrics doggone yaLook inside my rap book at every text my manand see that I got, more essays than the MexicanThe Messiah that`s feared great, leavin rappers in a weird stateScared straight, for their prepared fateStrong as an elephant, intelligent, compelling and elegantSo well in it with every single elementAnd competition gets none! HuhIf I was wearing pantyhose you still couldn`t give me no runI see the way you`re trying to get to me, but with with speech impedi-ment, man you gotta come better GYou`re hitting all the wrong switches troop begin againMumble mouth rappers couldn`t last a minute withThe non-resistable, non-competibleNo-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 understoodThat if I FART on a record, TRUST me nigga it`ll sound goodSo Jay-Z, if you`re down with the groove, my mellowGet on the mic it`s time to show and proveVerse Five: Jay-ZUh, one checkin it two, checkin it threeCheck out the J, check out the A, check out the Y, check out the ZHey G!I`m breaking MC`s up like EPMDAnd these nuts if you rappers tryin ta see meI`m buckwild with styles, ta-dowI`ve been in it runnin a hundred miles I`m well endowed, baby galUhh, the greatest nigga to touch it, you niggaz can`t fuck withThe, incredible skills of the G from Brooklyn, big up kidAnd ain`t no eatin me up, you fast fuckin with jiggaI`m like Prince jeans, I bring the ass out a niggaWhen I rock it it`s in the pocket, baby mop it don`t knock ittill you try it, once you start, you can`t stop itI`m the cocky breed, I`m dope like poppy seedI live one rent from besides that be between get off my dick and stop jockin meWhen I bust a rhyme you`re diggin the soundI know you lovin the way it`s, goin down babySo Ason huh, if you`re down with the groove, why don`t yaGet on the mic and show and proveVerse Six: Ol Dirty BastardCome onWu-Tang killa bees on a swarmRain on your college ass, disco dormSlippery when wet and don`t you ever forgetYou couldn`t get a FLICK, of the hype outfitBecause the way that I dress this style mad wildEnough to make a crowd of women scream "OW!"Whether at a party or just in bedAll thoughts on Ason, keep that in your headYuh, my beats are funky and my rhymes are spunkySometimes I`ll be like "Well god damn what`s the recipe?"I don`t know, I ask my momma she don`t knowshe says "GO ASK YOUR GOD DAMNED FATHER!"It`s all about me in the place to beNiggas thing they all that, yo, that shit is GMad game and it`s a motherfucking shameHow many enemies wanna claim the nameOf Ason, who carries on like a managerYO!, SOUNDS FLY RIGHT? DANGER!!!

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