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Verse 1--Master Ace:
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Listen closely, so your attention's undivided.
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Many in the past have tried to do what I did.
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Just the way I came off, man I'm gonna come off.
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Stronger and longer, even with the drum off.
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I keep on goin' and flowin' just like a river.
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I got a whole lot to give so I'm-a give a
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little at a time, new trails are blazin',
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Action is in effect, and always stays in.
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Yeah, just like a shot from a cannon.
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I am the man in charge and I've been plannin'
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a jam strong enough that it can life your soul.
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I'm the originator, and my rhymes are made of gold.
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Once you hear the capital "A" rap, it'll stay
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with you for awhile, it won't go away.
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Unless you force it, because it stays with you, my friend,
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and if you toss it away, I'm-a hit ya again.
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I project my voice so it's right in the crowd.
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There's a sign at the door: no bitin' allowed.
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And if you didn't read it I suggest you do so,
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or you'll be stranded, just like Caruso.
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Sleep if ya wanna, go 'head, get some shut-eye.
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A man broke his jaw tryin' to say what I
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say on the microphone, you shoulda left it alone,
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just for the record, let it be known
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that my ego's only partially grown.
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And never will I ever condone biting in any form, yo I'm only warm.
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That verse was the calm, now here's the storm...
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Next up (Yo, I believe that's me). Craig G, light up the mic for the Symphony.
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Verse 2--Craig G:
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This jam is dedicated to all un-optimistics
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that though I wasn't coming out with some exquisite rhymes.
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But that's alright, cuz now I'm back
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to kill all the rumors and straighten the facts of me
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not rockin' rhymes like I always used to,
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but you jumped on hte tip when you heard me and the Juice Crew.
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You said, "Mmm mmm mmm, ain't that somethin?
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Yo Craig, I head you in that jam, and it's pumpin'!
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I apologize. Oh yeah, and uh, can I have your autograph for me and my grandma?"
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That's how I'm livin': all surprise mode.
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Don't even sleep, try not to keep your eyes closed.
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Cuz if you do, when you awaken, your so-called spot will be taken.
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I'll take you over like a greedy executive, cuz on the mic my prospective is
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to be the best in all rap events, and since I have a call, I call experience.
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Next up...(Yo, I believe that's me)
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Kool G Rap, light up the mic for the Symphony...
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Verse 3--Kool G Rap
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Yo, Marley gives the slice, I get nice,
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and my voice is twice as horrifying as Vincent Price
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goes deep, till you fell in a spell of a sleep,
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and while I'm countin' the money, you count sheep.
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When G Rap strikes the mic, I recite the type of hype that you like,
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and make the people unite.
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I grip up hips and zip up lips, step on reps, you flip and wanna sip on my tip.
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Take a deep breath, because you don't have another left.
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Comin' back like I'm avengin' my brother's deat.
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Makin' veterans run for medicine,
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cuz I put out more lights in a fight than ConEdison.
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Rip the damn cage like I'm on a rampage.
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And if you want rage, I'm-a make front page.
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Read the headlines, suckers, todays the deadline,
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your head is way past bedtime.
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Can't kill though. Solo. Cuz you're still all...soft like a pillow.
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My rap is rougher than Brillo.
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So fear me, don't dare dare me,
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and don't compare me to him when you hear me.
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Talk about a battle but you ain't yet ready for war.
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Your metaphor sucks more than a whore.
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You can't replace me, ice me or ace me, bass me, face me, slice me or race me,
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bite me or taste me -- I'll show you that I got force.
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My rap burns your mouth like hot sauce.
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Run for water while I break your tape recorder.
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Server-to-sucker: the order is manslaughter.
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Another rapper, G Rap wrecks, he's rated X, to mean the boy is sex. Next...
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the amplifier gets used and abused. Pumps so loud, we might blow a fuse.
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This is anger, madness, ready to hang 'er.
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Rapper or singer: I'm puttin' up my middle finger.
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Next up... (I believe that's me)
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Big Daddy Kane, get on the mic for the Symphony.
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Verse4--Big Daddy Kane:
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Settin' it off, lettin' it off, beginnin'.
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Rough to the endin', you never been in
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to move the groove with the smooth rap lord;
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like a bottle of juice, rhymes are being poured.
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Down your ear, crisp and clear,
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as I prepare to wear, tear and smear -- then I'm outta here.
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With a mark left that you can all cling.
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Cuz rockin' a party? Yo, it's a small thing.
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I rip many places on regular basis, and broken down mics were the only traces
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that I'd been there and there at the party.
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The mic had my prints, and on it was a body.
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So take caution. I'm not horsin' around in a throwdown, clown,
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I'm takin' yours son.
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So just acknowledge the way that I kick it,
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cuz if rap was a house, you'd be evicted.
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And dismissed from the microphone, chokin' on a bone, cuz Daddy's home.
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And battlin' me is hazardous to health,
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so put a quarter in your ass, cuz ya played yourself
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Like a game in the arcade. You need a far aid.
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I'm walkin' the path that Allah made.
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I'll attend and then begin to send a speech to reach and teach,
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so just say when.
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So I can let lyrics blast like a bullet.
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My mouth is the gun; on suckers I pull it.
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The trigger, ya figure, my pockets gettin' bigger,
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cuz when it comes to money, yo, Grant's my nigga!
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You've got the groove, MCs, freeze, stand still, nobody move.
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It's a sabotage, as I take charge. Don't barge, cuz gotdamn, I'm livin' large
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like a giant. You're nothin' but a midget, a small digit.
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You ain't hit it, forget it, quit it.
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I reign superior, always takin' care o'ya.
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No-frill rappers, you will evaporate, disintegrate, deflate to your fate,
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as the great will dominate straight to the state
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of reignin', gainin. So put Kane in, that category. Period. End of story...
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The Symphony
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| Kool G. Rap |
