Come, get some, you little bum
I take the cake but you can't get a crumb
From the poetic, authentic, superior
Ultimate, and all that good shit
I'm the original, Asiatic, acrobatic
There you have it, now get dramatic
Creatin' drama when I'm on the scene
And I pack em in mean, like Bruce Springsteen
I profile a style that's mild and meanwhile
Put on trial a rap pile to exile
Make you tumble and stumble, in a rumble just CRUMBLE
And I'm still calm and humble
You need another helpin hand to swing on
I stand alone, but still you gotta bring on
Your Batman and Robin, Cagney and Lacey
Starsky and Hutch, but they still can't face me
And if may make this one thing here clear
That's for you not to come near, PERIOD
So I ain't buggin or delirious
My swift tongue's like a sword, that's how severe it is
And I can slice and dice a Fisher Price MC
That thought he was nice into Minute Rice
Single-handed, I ain't with that band stuff
'Cause Cee'll scratch a record like flakes of dandruff
And the mic I ravage, not like a savage
But in my own way of doin damage
As I design the genuine line
Now who flattop rules in eighty-nine?
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Take two other men with soul that you probably know
Deadly as Scarface, but bright as the Cosby show
Don't attack rappers, but make everyone hush
They step to me, but can't stop the bumrush
I make material, rich and imperial
The unique technique I speak is all original
You like to sag and drag and gag
Same old same old, but Poppa's Got a Brand New Bag
So put the mic down boy, you can't work it
Due to wack lyrics, it's bout to short circuit
So toss the sauce across to the boss, no remorse
You lost, with force, of course, a holocaust
First I caught ya, then put ya through torture
You moved wrong my son, so I taught ya
Just like a guardian, that put your body in
The mood to groove with the smoove way that I'm partyin'
Competition may find it spectacular
Scheme and fiend to take a bite like Dracula
and waste the taste, cause ain't no sugar here
So come near if you dare, you BOOGA BEAR
You start hallucinatin' like Magic
The wrath gets tragic, but Kane won't have it
Cause you tried to juice me when you're bluffin'
Slowed the pace, so I had to start rushin'
So pick a VC date, cause you're history
Here comes Kane Scoob Scrap Jay and Mister Cee
And this is one thing to us we ain't new to
The crew'll cast a spell on the crowd just like voodoo
I'm the man you can't hold back
and all competition appears to be weak
I meant to say wack, a vision of blur
Just them thinkin I'm competitin, I say, "Huh!"
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Warm it up, Kane
Genuine for eighty-nine, you know what I'm sayin?
As I give a shout out to my man Tony A
Tony P, Sally Sal and the whole Libra Digital posse
Can't forget my man Yawnski
And Smooth the Barber, you know what I'm sayin?
Also, I gotta say whassup to Born True, be boy,
And my man big Jay Cee
The whole rest of the crew, Scoob Lover my brother
Scrap Lover, and DJ Mister Cee
Can't forget Supreme, Abu, MelQuan and Shabazz
Wally D, and the rest of the brothers
And of course my little brother the Little Daddy Shane
Manditory end of the story, you know what I'm sayin?
Peace!
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written by A. HARDY
Lyrics © CAK MUSIC INC OBO COLD CHILLIN MUSIC