Interested in Cryptocurrency?
Visit best CoinMarketCap alternative. Real time updates, cryptocurrency price prediction...

Big Daddy Kane lyrics - Looks Like a Job For...

Brother Man, Brother Man

Original and similar lyrics
[K] Brother man, brother man [S] Uhh, a brother man, brother.. man, yeah! [K] Brother man, brother.. man, go 'head [S] Brother man, brother.. man, yeah! [K] A brother man, brother man, uhh [S] A brother man, brother.. man, yeah! [K] Brother man, brother.. man [S] Uh-huh, a brother man, brother man [Kane] Check it, we wreck shop, from nighttime to dawn It's goin it's goin it's goin it's goin [Shane] It's gone! Cause Lil' Daddy's like a rap helter skelter A bad mother.. [Kane] Chill Shane, respect your elders My younger one, UHH, tall and yellow Aiyyo, I got you covered like an umbrella [Shane] Well, I got a little rap thing I wanna breeze through [Kane] So may I release you [Shane] Oh oh, please do [Kane] So Lil' Daddy, my ace, my brother Get on the mic and let's rock with one another [Shane] And, here comes the six foot four, the rough and raw to blow up the mic with rhymes you like I strike the stage in a rage and burn just like a twelve gauge shotgun, cause son, the Shane is not the one The noise bringer, humdinger, funky rhyme stinger Bring your girl to my show and I'ma swing her The Lil' Daddy got it down pat, YEAH I'm like the name Heavy D, I sound fat Word for word, line for line, UH I gets mine and show I'm poetically in-clined If rap was made by then redeemed because you ain't got no ahhhhhice creeeeeeeeam So take a seat in the rear Don't dare to compare, cause I swear, you gets nothin here The way you see me knock out the next brother You'd think my moms had a talk with LL's mother, huh Aiy-yi-yi-yah, momma mia Man I burn the next MC like gonorrhea Knock the boots on a girl named Althea Then pull her friend by the name of Maria [Kane] Well I got a little rap thing I wanna breeze through [Shane] So may I release you [Kane] Oh oh, please do [Shane] So Big Daddy, my ace, my brother Get on the mic, and let's rap with one another [Kane] When I grab the microphone and shout You gotta spread out, spread out, spread out, spread out I'm ready to rip it apart, I hit em with one of the rhymes I'm rough in a flash, trash, bash, crash, smash slash mash Run for shelter, no one can help ya You pushed up on a heavyweight, when your rhymes are welter- -weight that's right, wait, because you're not fitted *singing* You're never gonna get it, never gonna get it UHH, I'm what you call a rap legend And definitely the last MC to be present Don't even try to take mines You fuckin new jack, you still got price tags on your rhymes Yo what's that sayin that Hammer says uhh U Can't Touch This, just like a pimple yo I'ma bust this I'm like Steven Segall, _Out for Justice_ As for competition, pssssssh, what's this You're not prepared too, rappers are scared too Confront this, cause you know damn well you don't want this Some good advice is just break out Before I treat you like a fast food resteraunt and take-out As soon as I see the microphone yo I'ma, seize that Squeeze that, a battle, you better, freeze that Cause if you go through the Wrath of Kane, uhh Not even Lisa Fisher can ease the pain, so [K] Brother man, brother.. man [S] Uh-huh, brother man, brother.. man [K] Yo, brother man, brother mega-man, UHH! [S] A brother man, brother mega-man, yeah! [K] Brother man, brother man.. [S] Ha hah! Brother man, brother.. man, yeah! [K] Brother man, brother MAN, aowww! [S] A brother man, brother.. man [both] RUFFFFFFFFFFF!

1-900-L.L. Cool J

LL COOL J "Walking With The Panther"
[phone rings twice] Yo.. 'Hello 1-900-LL Cool J' Yeah whassup 'Can you please bust a funky rhyme for me' Yeah I can do that, check this one out honey I motivate, accelerate Devestate, and dominate I don't smoke crack so I won't lose weight Give me the {pussy} and the money and the mic and I'm straight Go to a resteraunt, give me steak Then cook my chicken with Shake'n'Bake I leave all the preachin to Reverand Flake How much money can one black man make Huh I'm what's known as a true dynamiter I write rhymes fast without a typewriter Go with the flow, but no, I'm not a biter Can't compare a cock-a-roach and a spider Hell, you might as well get a glass of punch cause you're bitin my lyrics like a Nestle Crunch, huh And bitin my rhymes ain't slick I got your gold teeth marks all over my [phone rings] Complications and aggravation An unnecessary-sation I'm like Sunkist, good vibrations Your al-blum, sounds like a compilation Cool out, grab a seat and listen.. cause I'ma start dismissin sucker MC's who's out there frontin Talkin all that yang, yo you smokin somethin Shoulda treated me royal, yo he wasn't loyal Now it's all about chaos and turmoil .. gimme that microphone I'ma show you the real meaning of the danger zone [phone rings] Yo.. 'Hello is this 1-900-LL Cool J' Yeah whassup 'Can you tell me what you do when you're coolin out' Yo check this out Now when I'm coolin out, no time for a granny Just a fly girl in t-shirt and panties 'Can LL {*censored*}' Man, can he I tell you what, give up the fanny Cause on a bedroom tomb, J swift Not too big, but nothin to play with In addition, you on a mission You need to audition for another position Doin damage is a crew tradition Name your next al-blum intermission You're full of preservatives -- plus, you're too conservative I'm full of flair, savoir faire, debonairre There's no competition, for this here So don't waste your time and breath I'm givin you all a big F MC's I envelop.. .. as the song goes on, the rhyme develops I'm asiatic, acrobatic, charismatic You don't want no static Anyway, I ain't havin it! When I see the microphone -- I'm grabbin it Plug it in and take charge LL XL, Xtra-Large KnowhatI'msayin Peace [phone rings three times] Hello Hello whassup girl How you doin girl I been tryin to call you all day Word up I was talkin to LL he was kickin some mo' HYPED up rhymes to me Word, I spoke to him today too - them rhymes WAS pumpin Well not to cut you short but I gotta go cause my man is here Alright See-ya

Scenario (Remix)

featuring Leaders of the New School, Hood Busta Rhymes: Here in 1992, we present the fabulous what's the Scenario remix Where as there are 7 MCs. Six which are in physical form, one which is in spiritual essence And he goes by the name of, uh...HOOD! Hood: Check the vibe, punk that ass again, god 'F' it (SHIITT!!) ! I lay buckshots Hood, madman, I rip up stages Lay down your wages, I'm wild like Larry Davis Extra, extra, pick up a clip. I'll tear that ass out the frame (HUH!) And grab my dick(OH!) By the beats that I bump, I kick and drop bombs I'm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the petty A musical badder bastard, I'm bad news I'm crazy and clever, cut holes in crews Death on the phono, my skills are dolo You say 'oh no', you bitch ass homo I bag up waste, electrifying, I'm primetime I slaughter slime, I'm the greatest of all time Sick ass brotha, nasty ass nigga Pump slugs in your face and jump that ass in the river Two tears in a bucket, fuck it, kick the can (SAY WHAT, SAY WHAT!!!) I'm a bad, bad man Phife: Quick is how I flip from the tip of the lip Punchin out hits like Gladys Knight and the Pips The 5 foot assassin has just raided your area Your booty rhymes are wack and that's the reason why I'm hearin ya (SO!) Pull out the red carpet cuz I'm kickin this Vanilla Ice platinum? That shit's ridiculous Excuse my French, but profanity is all I knew And to you other sellouts, oh yeah, 'F' you too And let it be known, I'm not the one to step to You better off callin D-Nice to your rescue Freestyle fanatic, probably the best around As for corny MCs, like Chuck D, I 'Shut 'Em Down' The Artical Don of hip-hop and I won't stop The 5 foot assassin has come to wreck 'nuff shop So do like Michael Jackson and 'Remember the TIme'(DO YOU REMEMBER?) Put on your dancin shoes or somethin cuz you sho' can't rhyme Milo: (BIG UP BIG UP!) Into new eternity Next was said somethin that complies onto me What does it take to check a technique (MANY STYLES, MANY STYLES!) Hostile heat brings forth the energy Milo in the dance is the new identity One, two mic check, select for the ruffneck At a 10 to 1 bet, I come CORRECT! In my cyphers are blocks, I bring box to connect with knots So I can grow dreadlocks Maintain the rock DON'T STOP THE ROCK!!!) Maintain the rock (DON'T STOP THE ROCK!!!) Kick it right, then not, E. Watt said not I put my mug up, so fair is fair So C. Brown are we in the clear? (Yeah!) C. Brown are we in the clear? (Yeah!) Charlie Brown: Makin moves y'all (MOVES Y'ALL!) On and on and on (CHECKA, CHECK IT OUT!!!) To the breaka, breakadawn (WHO'S THAT?!?) Guess, one of the LONS and A Tribe Called Quest (EAST COAST!) to West Remixed mad kick more than Metallica To all ends like the Battlestar Gallactica Stampin, stompin, rompin Compton (PEOPLE ALL OVER THE WORLD!!!) I'm promptin (STYLE!) Pick a style, any style, Strong Isle Representation, sensationalization Scenario for the radio, BLS and KISS, so (HERE WE GO, YO!) Yeah Force, Main Source LP on the rise In Living Color was seen through original eyes And I'm out like shout, Ooh Ahh, Ooh Ahh (OOH AHH, OOH AHH!) There it is baby par Dinco: Vine, limb on a limb, slim chim P I am, there I am (THERE I AM!) Don't run from a blim Sight be be right, be polite for mice like a Mike SEE SICK, SEE SYKE And slip away and off to the Poconos Spot bring the flows, might swing the fruity poles Yamaha (YAY-HA-MAY!) Let's split the funk, now it all spells (HEY!) Enough, enough, misfitted I'm with it If I did it, I would split it and probably shouldn't have quit Cuz yo, my public status act Knight like Gladys Take rest space tests and yo, I'm like the maddest Male, not female, hail from Unidel Bounce the beat for the beat pole cuz beats are bein yelled In the hallway always ringin with a HO! This is my 2 times 9 on the Scenario Q-Tip: Check it out everybody, rhymes and mics Black mens gettin hip, DOIN WHAT THEY LIKE! Eight black brothas in the public eye If you listen very close, then I'll tell you why HOOD!, Phife, Milo, Dinco and C. Brown Shaheed, myself and Busta Bust Brown Will commence to rock (ROCK!), so bring on the flocks (FLOCKS!) Interrogation for the knockin of the box The boom-box ruler controls the medula None come cooler, I win like Shula So bust out the moves as you start to pursue her Intensified mind, non blunt consumer Tip will come booty (WELL, IT'S ONLY A RUMOR!) The beat is so sick, that it starts brain tumors (TUMORS!) Peace to Hood baby from the midnight crooner Smoke him up later, if not, then sooner Busta Rhymes: Hey what we gon DO! in '92, even though we had FUN! in '91 Quick to turn my day, all things comin down Run up on the new sound, leavin cracks in the ground What's goin on my man (GOD DAMN!) and now my brain is hurtin Busta, rhythm will hit 'em, then I get 'em Rip on 'em, shit on 'em, hit on 'em, then I will sit on 'em Open up your mouth if you want the food Take in full, Flipmode, cuz I'm in the mood, Uh-heh, uh-heh Yeah man, that's how it goes Body drippin with blood comin out your nose Give me a band-aid, what are you askin for? (MORE!) All in your secret and pure Adverse, they said, check it and I bust a new rap Rap, Busta Rhymes, and bust this wicked rap Yeah y'all in '92, I'm packin my ant spray (ANYWAY!) Tickle it, Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New School Mad brothas would still think...Rhow, Rhow, Rhow!!! To my dragon, baby, stop whining I see my influence still shining More crazy in '92, uh oh, time to go, yo That's the Scenario!

This Is Me

Oooohhhh This is me [speaking] this is who i am.. [verse one] I'm still tryna make it out Cause i'm still just another girl from the ghetto There's so much in my life I break down cause i'm so deep in the struggle (there isn't sun in rain. there ain't joy in pain.) Thought i found my way out then i'm back again From the streets to the stage of hollywood Back to the blessings And the love in the hood [chorus] I'm just a girl tryna make a way (ohhhohhh) It gets so hard but i'll be ok (be ok) I don't really care what the people say Cause this is me A mother, a daughter (daughter), a sis to my brother (sis to my brother) I'm every woman cause i gotta be And god put me through it Cause he know i can do it Cause this is me yeah [verse two] Southern girl with city dreams Got a sack full of clothes and just a few ol' dollars Bustin' tables while i'm tryna sing Hope i hit it big so i can send for my daughter (there isn't sun in rain. there ain't joy in pain.) Thought i found my way out then i'm back again From the streets to the stage of hollywood Back to the blessings And the love in the hood [chorus] I'm just a girl tryna make a way (make a way) It gets so hard but i'll be ok (ohhhohhh) I don't really can what the people say (oh yeah) Cause this is me (this is me yeah) A mother (mother), a daughter, a sis to my brother (sis to my brother) I'm every woman cause i gotta be (oh yeah) And god put me through it Cause he know i can do it Cause this is me yeah [breakdown] No one really knows the whole truth (the whole truth about me) And no one's had to live in my life (then they would know it ain't easy) Made my share of mistakes That's alright Cause i'm not gone be afraid no more Cause this is me And i won't hide who i am [chorus (all the way out)] I'm just a girl tryna make a way (ohhh oh yeah!) It gets so hard but i'll be ok I don't really care what the people say (what the people really say!) (oh yeah!) Cause this is me A mother, a daughter, a sis to my brother (sis to my brother) I'm every woman cause i gotta be (hey!) And god put me through it Cause he know i can do it Cause this is me yeah

Where We At

JURASSIC 5 "Feedback"
Ahhhhhhh Speak my mind just to reach your mind tap a tempo off the instrumental just to get the drum line you know it's my time reel up and rewind get off that cheap wine swingning on my grapevine you heard a brother worthy to create rhymes I take it further than a murder or I hate crime don't hate on me what have you done for me lately Beside to baith me assume and mistakely Too abstract than a backpack to super underground with the beats and rats cause I refuse to bust gatts and wather down my raps to get me caught up in a trap and set me years back. Fuck that! [Mos Def:] Yeah right from the start remember that feeling the way the Hip-Hop used to make you feel so real like getting first signed then the first time you heard Planet Rock Word is over, the God Staten Island, for real... for real I heard brother say J5, men them niggas ain't shit Them niggas never slapped no bitch, never inserted a clip They never claimed thug or a pimp Them niggas never made the attempt Hey yo, they ain't all that men Six members men and four of them black what kind of racist statement is that they need to change their views start talking about the clubbing they do thats the reason we ain't fucking with you today's artist is tough talking loud, this isn't enough... yeah let's talk about the guns you bust Nigga, the crack you cut or all the cars that you bought wholesale or the niggas rattling your cold tail I've been keeping it real let's talk about the ash you feel now thats the way to get mass appeal Ya'll ain't heard that wow the brothers ain't feeling your style you get stoned play over the radio right now Where we at Wh...Whe...Wher...Where we at (YA) Where we at Don't deny me, diss or austrsize me cause it's likely I'm all up in your sight gee It's unreal how you deal and threat us your bunch of beleivers I can tell just by the way you retreath cactus is a discreed fact they heat rap beat gaps but stay of the knee rack so you could put your seat back pick up your feet and bring facts rhymes and beats that we create can defeat that weak crap cause your either bling-bliging or your next tails rigning (dring) either way it goes, fat baby ain't signing the game ain't over until we all get shined I mean you do your thing and I do mine

Set 'em Straight

Eric B. Rakim "Let The Rhythm Hit 'Em"
[Gunshots and explosions] (Scratching: Run DMC sample: Run ) Run for cover. Here I go again ready to flow again. Better hold my mic don't blow again. Warned by alarms when the mic gets warm. Crowd'll get critical can't keep calm. Jet for the exit why hang around? Words that I found make the mic melt down. If you stay better cooperate cuz I amputate and whoever don't break I'm a suffocate. Leave 'em with asthma, you better pass the mic to the massacre master who has the power to build and destoy at the same time, so track the wack at the right, and exact could shine. (?) Meant to beat overheat, but I won't stop, so evacuate the spot when the mic's hot. Switch it from one hand to another, and that's a hint, my brother, run for cover. Cuz I'm armed, my brain contains a bomb, as if I escaped from Vietnam. Some people label me lethal, lyrics I made then put beats to. Format, collapse, your lungs twist your tongues, you can't bump your gums off of none of the drums. Words that I made'll create an iller scene, Eric B. is the fly human being on the guillotine. Hook 'em up to a respirator, cuz it's the Mista Suffocator. What I write is like shovin' a mic down your windpipe. Don't let him bit rhymes Rakim write. No mic-to-mouth resuscitation is neccessary; no obituary, and if they're left, they're buried. As it strikes on the same mic twice and then, cut it on, and I'm-a strike again. I meditate off the breaks, till the place shakes, then I make rain, hail, snow and earthquakes. Speak the truth, tear the roof off the mother. The stage is stompin' grounds -- run for cover. (scratching) Evacuate the building, danger, cuz I came to explain the strategy that'll be tragic automatically, havin' me to cause another catastrophe. All you gotta do is give Rakim the microphone and the crowd'll yell Timber. Buildings collapsin', rappers gettin' trapped in, areas closed off, no one gets back in. So set up roadblocks, barracade the doors, fade, put a detour sign on the stage. Hold my microphone as evidence, the weapon I use and been usin' ever since the days in the park when, rap was an art then. Plus I was dominant, determined and dark-skinned. Makin' it hard to walk the streets at night for those who talk the weak beats on the mic. Whoever's livin' large better wear camouflage. Prepare to be bumrushed when I yell charge. Surround by sound of the beat-down another brother, this is stompin' grounds, run for cover. Wheels or foot, better not stay put. Whole place shook till the mic's unhooked. Then you've got seven minutes to vacate the premises. Lyrics'll echo soon as the break finishes. Don't act wild, single file to the door. No need for an encore, just clear the floor. Cuz my mic's about to self destruct, the stage'll blow up when my rhymes erupt. So make sure the place is cleared out and abandoned, cuz minutes from now it won't be standin'. Then send out and A.P.B.: All Poets Beware of a brother like me. Now how many rhymes could your man manufacture? How many bitin' MCs can I capture? Trap rappers who try to run off at the mouth; take over their route, play 'em out like a Cub Scout. So leave troopin' for MCs at war, and if it's a battle let the crowd keep score. Cuz me and the drummer make drama, and that's word to for cover. (scratching) [instrumental]

Was it funny? Share it with friends!