[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
