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    Bring that beat back, bring that beat back!" -> Chuck D  
    "We gonna do a song, that you heard before.."  
    Here I am, R-A-W  
    A terrorist, here to bring trouble to  
    phony MC's, I move on and seize  
    I just conquer and stomp another rapper with ease  
    Cause I'm at my apex and others are below  
    Nothing but a milliliter, I'm a kilo  
    Second to none, making MC's run  
    So don't try to step to me, cause I ain't the one  
    I relieve rappers, just like Tylenol  
    And they know it, so I don't see why you all  
    try to front, perpetratin a stunt  
    when you know that I'll smoke you up like a blunt  
    I'm genuine like Gucci, raw like sushi  
    To stage a rage is what rap did to me  
    To make me want to create, chaos and mayhem  
    Cold rock a party, until the A.M.  
    I'll make a muscle, grab the mic and hustle  
    While you stand dazed and amazed, I bust a  
    little rhyme with authority, superiority  
    And captivate the whole crowd's majority  
    The rhymes I use definitely amuse  
    Better than Dynasty, or Hill Street Blues  
    I'm sure to score adored for more without a flaw  
    Cause I get RAW!  
    "R-A-W" (cut and scratched by Mister Cee 4X)  
    Attact, react, exact, the mack'll move you with  
    a strong song as long as you groove to this  
    I keep the crowd loud when you're hyped  
    Do damage on stage and injure the mic  
    As I shoot the gift, MC's stand stiff  
    While my rhymes stick to you like Skippy and Jif  
    Feel my blunt fist, or my death kiss  
    The rap soloist - you don't want none of this  
    Supreme in this era, I reign with terror  
    When I grab the mic, believe you're gonna hear a  
    fascinating rhyme, as I enchant them  
    So let's all sing the Big Daddy anthem  
    Go with the flow, my rhymes grow like an afro  
    An entertaining gain, the Kane'll never no  
    problem, I could sneeze sniffle or cough  
    Eeee-even if I stutter I'ma still come off  
    Cause rappers can't understand the mics I rip  
    They sho' nuff ain't equipped, that's why they got flipped  
    But my apparatus is up to status  
    Don't ask who the baddest, or cause static  
    to make or break or take em, my rhymes hit the head  
    Put it to bed, so watch what's said  
    Save the bass for the piper, rearrange your tone  
    Take a loss and be forced from the danger zone  
    I get ill and kill at will  
    Teachin a skill that's real, yeah no frill  
    Just stand still and chill as I build  
    Science I drill until my rhymes fill your head up!  
    "R-A-W" -- don't even get up  
    Competition shut up, cause I'm RAW!  
    "Help me!" (cut and scratched 8X by Mister Cee)  
    The man at hand to rule and school to teach and reach  
    the blind to find their way from A to Z  
    and be the most and boast the loudest rap  
    again, to reign your domain (YEAH KANE)  
    The heat is on, so feel the fire  
    come off the empire, all the more higher  
    Level of depth, one step beyond dope  
    The suckers all scope and hope to cope but NOPE  
    cause I never let em on top of me  
    I play em out like a game of Monopoly  
    Let em speed around the board like an astro  
    Then send em to jail for tryin to pass Go  
    Shakin em up, breakin em up, takin no stuff  
    but it still ain't loud enough  
    So let the volume increase, never to cease  
    I'ma release a masterpiece a slip of the tongue like grease  
    Rippin the mic to shreds, puttin heads to bed  
    Code red cause the rhymes is bein said  
    by the Asiatic printer of raw poetry  
    No hints or clues, you all know it's me  
    I go pound for pound and round for round to clown the sound  
    profound it's bound to go down, UHH  
    A lyrical knockout, showin I got clout  
    My comp should just drop out  
    Cause none of them can see me  
    I leave em Winan like their name was BeBe or CeCe  
    I get RAW

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