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Big Daddy Kane lyrics - It's a Big Daddy Thing

Mortal Combat

Original and similar lyrics
The kiss of death on a rap pick Then you get a slap quick, so guard it with Chapstick In other words, protect and hold your own It only takes one punch to get head flown Fists of fury, suckers get buried Cause the Kane got more spice than curry I am the flavor down on paper And nothing could save ya, from catchin the vapors Rhymes that'll sting your face like a quick jab And I'm rubbin em in just like Vicks say I'm captivatin, dominatin, innovatin, illustratin, fascinatin Motivatin, elevatin, terminatin, mutilatin Rhymes they're worth their weight in gold, bold, never sold to a bidder That claim to glitter, you're so bitter like kitty litter As for damage, don't tell me what another do Cause I quote that I'm R-A-W So make room, cause fighters are doomed Try to consume, and make your own tune A grave from a casket, a tisket a tasket You're rhymes out of basket, boy you get your ass kicked For frontin like you hittin hard when your arms are too short, to box with God So don't even touch cause I come with too much Address and bless any mic that I clutch And for a rapper to challenge my freestyle He must be senile, and that's why meanwhile back at the ranch... There goes the asiatic chosen one that's expandin with a new branch So many slept on the nonchalant act Now wake up sucker this is mortal combat you say daddy I don't want none... -- gt; Kool Moe Dee (repeat 4X) I seize and freeze MC's with these degrees Put me to my knees, or at ease, chillllld please I break it down, to bring on the next act Rappers are so full of shit, they need Ex-Lax So stop griffin, your mind is driftin Prepare yourself cause I get swift and captivate the crowd but you can't understand At times I gotta say to myself, God damn! As I get hot, and still be gettin warmer And I don't have beef with no other performer Keep to myself never bother another But if a rapper tries to diss I crush the motherfucker! Frontin MC's that be tryin to rip need to save it, and don't even play with me when I react like a volcano eruptin I step to you and say, Now what's up then every word'll be just like surgery Cuttin you open so rush to emergency Or even bow to your knees and below Or get played like a game of Nintendo J-O-K-E-S ain't my style I ain't a child that's why I don't smile I combine a line designed to find behind the mind so devine the other rappers resign As I go on, from night to morn Beginning to end, from Knowledge, to Born Whenever rappers are lookin for static Looks like a job for King Asiatic An-y, send-me, competitors Then again, it might just be better to just slow down you don't wanna throwdown I get busy, get you dizzy like a merry-go-round Feel the wrath of a Big Daddy duel rhyme And competition, prepare for wartime Be alert for where I drop the bomb at As I destroy you with mortal combat you say daddy I don't want none... -- gt; Kool Moe Dee (repeat 4X) I roll so bold with soul control the whole patrol of folders molders towin black gold So let it be said, let it be read Cause I lead ahead, of others who rhymes are old as Pro-Keds Tryin to diss the Big Daddy repetoire Moi You steady screamin out a antique segment wrote As I just play em like a pregant roach and STOMP EM For tryin the forbidden Your rhymes ain't hittin, boy you won't be gettin none of, or in front of, cause every one of my adversaries, lack, you little son of o-bit-uary column, and read your name If you ever try to step to the Big Daddy Kane So any claimin or aimin to be champion against me Psssh, can't be one I rank supreme and it's a rapper's dream to scheme and fiend for my technique but redeem Cause there's only room for one teacher Wise words from a wise man'll reach ya I teach freedom, justice, and equality Peace to the brothers and sisters and follow me Plenty poisoned minds of the people are ours Slaves, from mental death in power That's the reason before I drop this bomb I say peace to the Nation of Islam ( Make you say (6X) daddy I don't want none... ) -- gt; Kool Moe Dee ( Make you say, say, da-daddy I don't want none... ) ( Make, ma-ma-make, make you say daddy I don't want none... ) ( Make you say (6X) daddy I don't want none... )

To Da Break Of Dawn

LL COOL J "Mama Said Knock You Out"
Yeah (To da break of dawn) All my sex involved As we get funky Rhymes so bizarre Everybody knows When it come to a situation like this Little more effects And I can't resist So we get funky in the house Youknowmsayin L.L. Cool J style What This ain't on a pop tip Check it out [ VERSE 1 ] [ dissing Kool Moe Dee ] What is a panther A animal that kills I'm like a shark with blood comin out the gills You could never in your wildest dreams Get a piece of this gangsta lean straight from Queens Strong as liquor, to be seen in a limousine Now you're gettin done without Vaseline Wouldn't bite because your rhymes are puppy chow Made another million, so competators bow Homeboy, hold on, my rhymes are so strong Nothing could go wrong, so why do you prolong Songs that ain't strong, brother, you're dead wrong And got the nerve to have them Star Trek shades on Ha, you can't handle the whole weight Skin needs lotion, teeth need Colgate Wise up, you little burnt up french fry I'm that type of guy And I slammed you know, just like a sumo Put him in pampers, leave my drawers in his hamper When I'm through, you need a brand-new identity I was scoopin girls before you lost your virginity Your jam is just a dreamin MC scheme Gettin crushed by a L.L. theme Somethin like Shaft, put you in a cask' - bo! You little blood-clot boy, you must not know The rep I keep, the MC's I peep, sweep, play cheap And freak with a chic unique technique Get rid of the yukmouth smile Cause brother, you ain't got no style Keep on (To da break of dawn) (To da break of dawn) Yeah Keep on (To da break of dawn) Hey yo, that's kinda funky But check this out here (Rock that shit) (To da break of dawn) Yeah... [ VERSE 2 ] [ dissing M.C. Hammer ] Immaculate styles I use to abuse MC's, so light the fuse And spread the news, you lose To the damager, microphone manager Cold crush and bruise and bandage a amateur That amateur swingin a hammer >From a body bag, so run and get your camera Get a flick of the stiff dead-shot to get swift But I'm the wrong brother to dance with Cause I don't need a partner to swing Keep your eyes on the Cool J ring Shootin the gift, but you just don't shoot it right You couldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight Wouldn't throw a rock in a ghost town So don't try to play post, clown You know the L.L.'s back in town And all the wanna-be sherrifs is gettin shot down (_shot_) Gimme that microphone I'ma show you the real meaning of the danger zone Stop dancin, get to walkin Shut your old mouth when young folks is talkin Huh, you little snake in the grass You swing a hammer, but you couldn't break a glass Gimme a lighter - woof! Now you're cut loose From that jherri curl juice Cool J is back on the map And when I see ya, I'ma give you a slap That's right, a little kick for that crap Cause my old gym teacher ain't supposed to rap Keep on (To da break of dawn) Yeah (To da break of dawn) Funk it up I said keep on (To da break of dawn) (Yo, rock that shit) (To da break of dawn) Check this out Yeah... [ VERSE 3 ] [ dissing Ice-T ] How dare you stand beside me I'm Cool, I freeze I-c-e On your trail and I'ma cut that bull tail You're disobedient with the wrong ingredients But I'ma drink you down over the rocks While I freak on your album cover jocks You're gonna hear a real ill paragraph soon I took the cover right home to the bathroom In the immortal words of L.L., 'hard as hell' Your broad wears it well She's the reason that your record sold a few copies But your rhymes are sloppy Like Oscar, and you're bound to get dropped And stopped, I ain't Murray the cop Nor am I Felix, but I got a bag of tricks Mr. Pusherman, gimme a fix So I can show you I'm immune to them romper room tunes You little hip-hop racoon I'm not Scarface, but I want more beef Before you rapped you was a downtown car thief Workin in a parking lot A brother with a perm deserves to get burned So tell me how you like your coat cream On a cone, in a bowl, or in a wet dream With your tv on channel fuzz Uncle L, that's how much damage he does Here's 5 dollars, catch a taxi cab Take your rhymes around the corner to the rap rehab Keep on (To da break of dawn) Yeah (To da break of dawn) I say keep on (To da break of dawn) Just wanted to funk it up a little bit My man Pete Rock is up in the crib Youknowmsayin Over here at Marley Marl house Just coolin out My man Clash in the house Sippin on this Bartles & Jaymes premium piece flavor out the cooler Loungin back Keep on Peace

Sticky Icky Situations

ABK (ANYBODY KILLA) "Hatchet Warrior"
[Verse 1: Anybody Killa] My teacher always said I wouldn't be nothin' So I met him in the parking lot said "I'ma killer" and then I rushed him Sometimes I feel like a nut Runnin' through the neighborhood, tearin' shit up Straight jackin' motherfuckers just to smoke a blunt Sometimes I feel that my head fucked up, and it really sucks I hear voices tellin' me to do it (Do it) How would you act if you had to live through it? Turnin' back on the gat, and I stole me an ounce Now I'm addicted to the sound of a head gettin' whacked Do I smoke too much, cause I choke too much? Are you mad cause I keep stealin' your roaches bro Yo Mike P! (Yo what's up?) Turn my headphones up Rude Boy got me stoned from the sticky stuff Weed's fuckin' with my head, man I'm too damn high Yo Violent J, you want the rest? (Show you right!) Man I can smell it in yo pocket (Roll it up) Sandwich bag filled up like you ain't got enough Always smoke with your road dogs, don't be shy Cause when a drought comes, he might be yo main supply Me and J steady smokin' pounds So at least have a sack when you see us around (Biatch!) Like you ain't heard, man we flippin' the scripts So unlock yo ziplock and let me grab us a spliff [Verse 2: Blaze Ya Dead Homie] When I pass it to you, bitch pass it back Bitches don't smoke for free, where the ass be at? B-L-A-Z-E, ABK And we got Esham and Violent J Juggalos outside in the parking lot Because y'all know how we get sparked a lot Got the Faygo Cola with the Vodka twist And when we all get together we see diamond mist [Verse 3: Violent J] I could smoke a stick of dynamite and not be dead (POP!) I like it cause it fuck with my head I stay weeded indeed, a killa need it I can eat it to feed it, proceed and keep it heated Now who the fuck don't like my flow? You ain't heard my words will make the beard of a wiseman grow Hydro, in a good way it fuck with my head And without it you fucks would be dead I rhymed dead and head for the 17th time We double team rhymes, ABK and Violent J If I loved Shaggy anymore I'd have to be gay In Californ-i-a, they pull they socks to they knees NIA, Ninjas In Action we be deez I like cheese, I'm a serial pleez I bitch slap fans cause I be a dick like that I get wicked-wicky-wicky rhymes sick like that I'm fat and fuzzy and I smell like weed everywhere My homies call me Smokey The Bear Tell that pokey beware, don't come near here Don't dare, unless you wanna see my axe buddy partin' your hair I'm a Southwest gang bang gangsta boy Zug Island, Del Ray I aint's ta toy My boy Nate's the boy, my whole crew busts shots Until you out like quamay's pokadots I'm tryin' to smoke a litte somethin' for my dogs who smoke They only cessed and stressed cause they all too broke I'm like "bew-bew-bew-bew-bew" with the Anybody Killa Blowin' Indian tubleweed, we bitch booty feelas Ghetto scrubs flippin' nubs at thugs We drown faggots in Faygo tubs and eatin' dead bugs (Ew!) I'm tryin' to say anything that rhymes So I can fuck with your head like the cess do mine [Hook x2: Blaze Ya Dead Homie] Break it down and roll it up, smokin' blunts all night Hesitate to hit it too hard, the weed's that tight Sticky icky situations, dehydrated Cottonmouth creepin', the game got me faded [Verse 4: Esham] I'm in the water with the sharks bleedin' That's why I be a killa for no reason, speedin' My flows dope like OZ's and Crush pounds and trees and, I'm all season Veteran, no one does it better than they (We) E and J, (Hey) ABK And that's my man and them (What's up?) And I always blow ganj with them Detroit playas too advanced for them We buyin' out the bar, we don't dance with them So if you ever get a chance to glance at them Baby boy say holla back, answer him H-U-S-T-L-E-R Yes, that's what the hell we are See, me and Blaze, wicked ways Full body armor, 5000 rounds and about 2 K's I can walk on water, spit fire and ice Chinese secrets, makin' wine from rice Still shoot dice, up against the wall so nice Still F-U-C-K the po-lice Think twice like the 3 blind mice But don't give me no advice I shine like crystals in the jewelry heist And still pimp hoes like Heidi Floess

My Old Man

RODNEY ATKINS "Honesty"
I got a picture of him, barefoot in the mud. Behind his grandpa's plow an' two great mules. When he turned ten years old, on May 8, '53. He grew up fearin' God in Washburn, Tennessee. The closest thing he had to a Dad was his Uncle Bob. An' he could only dream of things like little league baseball. An' that little boy, with big blue eyes and calloused hands, Huh, became my old man. Well she was a Kentucky girl, born on Valentine's Day. The fourth child of five to my Grandma, Eula May. So shy and beautiful with sunset hair and emerald eyes. Her Daddy spent his life workin' in the coal mines. Now in my eyes, all my life, my Daddy's been a Saint. But even Saints need Angels to show them the way. And over thirty-seven years ago, he asked for Margaret Lynn's hand. And that Angel married my old man. And there were times I tried to buck, the truthful things they said. But now I'm glad that, more than once, they rattled my stubborn head. 'Cause my folks are just like mountains, I looked at from afar. But now the closer I get to them, the bigger they are. The time seems to fly anymore, and the holidays are so far apart. There's no way a 'phone call could express what's in my heart. So this is just a song to say how greatful I am. For Mamma and my old man. For Mamma and Dad.

True Lies

Snoop Doggy Dog "Tha Last Meal"
{*cameras flashing, Snoop interviewing Bill Clinton*} Yo, hold on hold on hold on hold on Stop the cameras, stop the press stop the press Now Bill, this yo' nigga, Snoop Dogg Now answer me this - did you fuck that bitch or what? [Bill Clinton] That's actually, not the first time that question's been asked; but since, I believe, and I think any person - reasonable person would believe, that that is not covered, in the definition of sexual relations I was given - ahh - I'm not going to answer it except to refer to my statement. I had intimate, contact with her that was inappropriate - I do not believe any of the contacts I had with her violated the definition I was given; therefore I believe I did not, do anything but testify truthfully on these matters. [Chorus One: KoKane] What's the use of the truth if you can't tell a lie sometimes? What's the use of the truth if you can't tell a lie..hie.. What's the use of the truth if you can't tell a lie sometimes? What's the use of the truth if you can't tell a lie..hie.. [Chorus Two: Snoop Dogg] Lies, lies, stories and alibis Big Mac in the land of the small fries Everyone lies and tries to get by Some of us drink while most just get high [Snoop Dogg] You tryin to cover up the holes in your sneakers You need to put your motherfuckin face to the speakers (ba-bom, ba-bom) And quit tryin to run from it (holla holla at me) and c'mere, you big dummy (dumb ass nigga) Don't you know you can't run from the Dizzogg I'm down with (?)za, the long arm of the lizzaw Y'all, niggaz know what's happening you turn your back again and I'm bound to get it crack-a-lin I'm back again And everybody happy for me - ain't that the truth? That's a motherfuckin lie (fuck that fool) Black folks stick together til we die, hmm That'll be the day.. [Chorus One] [Snoop Dogg] Liar, liar, pants on fire Smoke so much dope they call me Snoopy Pryor (well God damn!) Which way is up I'm tryin to get higher I won't stop puffin til I re-tire My bitches, my niggaz, they off the wire They love-ly, they love me, call me Sire Movie star bitches the ones you desire Angela Bassett, Tyra, Mariah, the flyest, the flyer See most bitches like fuckin with a rider Slider, to the sider, invite her to a gangsta, party, provider {*laughing*} with a lot of meat by-products (mm) And beat the puddy-pot and got up She licked the dick from the top to the bottom {*woo woo woo woo*} (That's a bad bitch!) Then she grabbed me by my nuts, and said 'Hmm I got 'em!' [Chorus One] [Chorus Two] {*KoKane scats and ad libs to the music*} [KoKane] Ah what's the use of the truth if you can't tell a lie sometimes?

Flip The Script

GANG STARR "Daily Operation"
Brave is the knave who steps up to be slayed by the one who forgave him for his first mistakes He'd best behave or I'ma send him a wave of some shocking volts he doesn't know what he's talkin about He's kickin a bunch of crap so I'll be the judge of that The boy lacks artistry but still he tries hard to be an entertainer but instead he's a waste of my time and your time so I'll kick the pure rhymes Whenever you're looking for rap that's exceptional and credible, straight to the G's you better go Cause GangStarr's known to be prone to be masters of streetwise poetry and turntable wizardry but still be a cold day in Hell when you hear that Guru or Premier ever tell suckers get sales but they fail in the long run that kid who went gold yo That was the wrong one but tonight the spotlight is all on me I'm the Guru, of the G-A-N-G Taking out scrubs cause they rub me the wrong way and I'll say, that they've still got a long way to go to show they can flow like a real pro So gimme that loot catch the boot from my steel toe I'm changing the scenery as I make em uncomfortable cause most MC's ain't really got no pull Watch me stifle em quick with the gift and the wit Make em quit all that riff as I flip the script Chorus Fool listen, I know that you've been missing all this and so my rhymes are gonna gleem and glisten like a gem, and if you are the fake MC type I'll shine so bright I'll be blinding your eyesight Your capabilities fall short so I'ma treat you like a dwarf on a basketball court still you try to rap And even claim you got new styles but rolling your tongue's been playe dout for a while And you don't sound fly so why are you doing that? You had a dope track but you're wack so you ruined that I couldn't make out what you were saying your diction is jumbled where as me I'm conveying clear thoughts to a crowd that's most critical Booty duck rappers like you are just pitiful I bet you couldn't name more than one pioneer Cause you didn't pay dues and you got on on outta nowhere But that's OK cause I'm peeping your card If rap was my house you'd be sweeping the yard As I recline I'll find more chores to give ya like moppin the floors or maybe fetchin my slippers So don't even trip or run off with the lip Cause as soon as you slip you know I'll flip the script Chorus So as I kick a bit flip with script without a skip butter roll MC's get dissed like this You'll never got none son because I'll become troublesome You rap like a simpleton And I hate scum yo I can easily deflect your threats cause they're idle my recital will break you down Just a fight til the end cause I can take ten at a time Give em all a fair shot to see if any can rhyme And even if one is decent, I'll still get props I'll kick the slick lines til the last one drops As my powerful skills are unveiled I'm tippin the scales and weighing much more than your tall tales Stop the exaggeration perpetration observe and make simple notation Nobody no where no way no how is taking me out cause I can throw so you know now Can you feel it, I bust raps so lay off before I steal that so called title that you gave yourself But you really ain't jack so yo you played yourself And now you look from a distance as you sweat my tip You know I'll whip you swift when I flip the script

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