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    Kane *singing*]  
    Do you know, what you're goin through?  
    Do you like this style of rap that I'm showin you?  
    The way I flow for you.. do you know?  
    [Kane *rapping*]  
    Yeah baby c'mon  
    Ah baby baby c'mon, check the rhyme to the song  
    Uhh, aw yeah baby c'mon  
    Ah baby baby c'mon, and check the rhyme to the song  
    One double nine to the four, gotta keep em on the floor  
    and put some real lyrics back in the hardcore  
    What I'm used to hearin, I can't believe it's gone  
    But now just like a grill inside Burger King, the beef is on  
    When I come, rappers begin to speak in degrees  
    I even make Sisters With Voices _Weak in the Knees_  
    So run for your lives, Kane with the pen  
    is like Freddy with the glove full of knives  
    Who wanna test these skills, come see how it feels  
    I pull you one verse, if that don't kill I got refills  
    You can't do me none, kid you gets nothin  
    If my rhymes was in braille, you still couldn't touch em  
    Man, I'm a bad cat, my style of rap is mad fat  
    And you know, sometimes it's so sad that  
    Rappers today be comin as the gangster rhyme type  
    And be so soft, they wouldn't even kill time right  
    Here's the news, you lettin the word hardcore be misused  
    You ain't never paid dues  
    Be for real, you ain't tough yet  
    The razor bumps on your throat is the only thing makin you a ruffneck  
    Your whole image is a dammmmmmmmn sham  
    I'm glad in this business I didn't forget who I am  
    I always remain the Kane inside a battle  
    *singing* Never to walk in anyone's shadow  
    I do my own thing, I do a thing of my own  
    And with my competition I let it be known  
    that battles I don't lose none, boy you get bruised son  
    Six million ways to die -- choose one!  
    My rap style is like a poisonous vemon  
    We might as well be havin sex, the way that I put it in em  
    And do I crush MC's - are you kiddin me?  
    If rappers were grapes, I'd have a whole wine distillery  
    So, I bring it to your face, with the bass, then I BLOW  
    a rapper off the map, with the rap, when I FLOW  
    then hit you with the skill that is ill, and I KNOW  
    that all of this is good to go, cause yo  
    that's the way the flavor always come  
    The rhymes they flow accordin to the drum  
    The Brooklyn style caue that is where I'm from  
    You want the funk so let me give you some  
    I flip on the flow on the track, just like that  
    Amazin the people the style of the rapppin, is quite fat  
    I'm lickin the lyrics and shootin the gat, on the mic black  
    And this is for all of the rappers that like, and they bite that  
    The Smooth Operator is mellow with the saxophone  
    Settin the tone that make the girls relax and moan  
    Cause all the ladies I'm givin em lots of love  
    Hittin more skins than a boxing glove, good God  
    The girls treat me like the drummer and give me some  
    From tall to short to thick, even the slimmie ones  
    Watch out Goldie! Gimme a forty ounce of Olde E  
    and none of you players can control me  
    You get the chance to see a true mack man  
    with skills to pay the bills, to make more stacks than  
    taller than anybody else's stacks it seem  
    Cause the Kane get more paper than a fax machine  
    The unforgettable, rhymes are too poetical  
    Keep rappers in order more than letters put alphabetical  
    And I hope the record consumers don't believe the magazine rumors  
    Cause Kane is makin a comeback, like Puma's!  
    I get rough G, and set it on your whole damn company  
    and Bogart, like my name was Humphrey  
    When I get through, there'll be no more of them  
    As many rappers I burnt, I should open a crematorium  
    I make mad MC's give me my P's  
    If you try to disrespect, kid you can get these  
    N-U-T's, like the U-N-V's  
    I leave you down on your knees, down on your knee-heeees!  
    Razor sharp, many ways of art  
    Source rings the chart, people praise the God  
    for kickin the flows so fantasitic and this one here  
    We're callin it Lyrical Gymnastics  
    Uhh, so baby baby c'mon  
    Aw yeah baby c'mon, and check the rhymes to the song  
    Uhh, ah baby baby c'mon  
    Suki suki c'mon, and I'm gone

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