Big Daddy Kane

(feat. The Whole Crew)
[Kane]
Okay, okay, okay, okay
Attention to the whole crew
Scoob Lover, Scrap Lover, I dont need your dancin
Mister Cee I dont need you on the turntables
Ant Live I dont need you collectin the dough
And Little Daddy since you my brother
get yo ass on in here
Cause we gettin ready to take things down the line
Here we go one time
Prepare yourself for MC terror
And dont make the error of tryin to come near a
rapper so smooth and swift with the gift of gab
to grab the mic, cause Im sorta like
Vincent Price, but you never been so nice
So back up off me, Im seperatin men from mice
Kickin ass in every committee, city to city
Until both shoes are city
The regulator innovator dominator creator of data
Plus an imitator assassinator
Lyrics dont display a too don sweet
Hard as concrete, and always on beat
Steppin to this, youre not allowed
You keep frontin on the stage like youre rockin the crowd
Snatchin the microphone real proud
But your rhymes are so booty you should write em on White Cloud
So next up down the line, Scrap Lover
[Scrap Lover]
Aiy-aiy-yo, the microphones mine
But I prefer peace, so the roadll get rough when
a toy MC, gets the heart to pull a bluff and
theres no laughter, cause the one that Im after
is smashed, for that reason you have to
make sure each and every lyric is harmless
Cause if not, you wont be able to calm this
Brother from Brooklyn, made to fit a groove
And prepared for the unexpected, to make a move
So put up your girl, and lets see whos in trouble troop
And if you got a sister, then make it a double scoop
The capital S the C, the R-A-P
stands for me, cause Im the
only MC with an original rap style
You disagree, you get put on the Scrap pile
So stay off the set, with George and Jet-son
You never seen a dancer who rapped well you met one
Now spin the Wheel of Fortunes or be wise and stay back
Co-host my show, like Pat and dont Sa-jak shit
or get ate like oats and barley
Save your Sweat for Keith, and the Beef for Charlie
So next up, goin down the line, Scoob Lover
[Scoob Lover]
Yo, the microphones mine
Its the S yall, to the C yall, double-O B yall
Well god damn its me yall
Jump back, kiss myself, Im so fly
Sip a brew or two, cause yo, I dont get high
I might wave hi..
.. at a pretty young girl that walk by
But yo, you all that, you cant stop?
A-with the weave in your head like a mop?
You must know karate, cause your face look chopped
Now back to the subject of the matter
I eat a lot of food, but I wont get fatter
Let me see Im slim, my hair is well trimmed
And when Im low-key I throw on a brim
But Im not conceited, when hangin out I need it
For when trouble comes then I never have to meet it
Im intellectually spoken, Im not jokin
What are you, smokin?
You be hopin wishin and prayin
to be like Scoob but what are you sayin?
Well it takes style, charisma, class
Fuck up on the Lover, and I bust your ass
So next up, movin down the line
Mister Cee
[Mister Cee]
Yo, the microphones mine
Mission, to make DJs feel the wrath
So heres a paragraph, written on behalf
of the ruler, dictator, DJ ambassador
Makin a massacre, you couldnt last through a
round of combat, where my left arms at
My mouth with the mic in my hand, when I attack
I shake and bake or fake a snake
Take em and make em ache and flake, I break like an earthquake
When I erupt, MCs I corrupt, to be blunt
Ima tear shit up
So next up goin down the line
The Little Daddy Shane
[Little Daddy Shane]
The mic is all mine
MCs crawl by when they see this tall guy
Six foot three huh, nobodys small fry
The Little D-A double-D Y
The S-H-A-N-E, yes its me
You better believe theres no comp and Im certain
So if you try to battle me, then its cur-tains
Im no joke, the wrong one to provoke
One false move and KERRRRRR-ROAK!
So take it easy and slide on greasy
Cause Im more rougher than hair when its peasy
Im more rougher than steak when its raw
So keep that in mind, mon cherie amore
Cause Im a lover you find quite young
And Brooklyn New York, is where Im from
So keep it on and you dont quit
That supercalafragilisticexpalidopeshit
So next up down the line, Ant Live
[Ant Live]
Yo, the microphones mine
Yeah I took it, I aint gonna give it back
And its a fact that I can swing, Im not a new jack
Got the mic in a chokehold, you wont hear a peep
Then I put it to sleep
I see a lot of brothers got raisins in the place
Not Al Pacino, I dont need a Scarface
But I know, if some shit goes down
Ill turn the whole New York into Bucktown
A Face aint real Scarred, cause I real hard
And I aint no bullshit bodyguard
Walk the streets to New York and stay alive
All I need is my loaded four-five
And sweet and deadly like a killer beehive
And I can stalk in Fort Greene park and survive..
And my name is Ant Live
[Big Daddy Kane]
Now thats what Im talkin bout
Thats EXACTLY what Im talkin bout
Put your weight on it fellas
Anyway you can get back to work now
Get back to your god damn jobs
And we outta here, love peace and hairgrease
[ Down The Line Lyrics ]