Greatest Old School Rap Lyrics of al time

[Bronx_Bomber]

This is classic…

I got a job with the mob, makin g?s
Doin some pickups, deliveries and transportin keys
Yeah they got me like a flunkie
I?m ridin around with ten kilos inside my trunk g
And I?m holdin the suitcase
With a half a million dollars right in my motherfuckin face
And I?m tryin to ignore it
But sometimes I get tempted to make a motherfuckin run for it
The thought alone makes me shiver, damn
What if I get caught? they?ll find me floatin in the hudson river
But if I escape, I?ll be in shape for my life
But they might, get my kid and my wife
See I?m supposed to make a stop
To an uptown spot, run up the block and make another drop
But I got somethin else in mind
Cause I?m sick of puttin my motherfuckin ass on the line
I got the money and the hit
Went through the brook nonstop cause I ain?t droppin off shit
Then I thought of a plan
So I droves to my house and got my girl and my little man
C?mon bitch, pack the shit, get ready
God damn why your face all sweaty?
Just hurry up and get the shit
I?m a dead man bitch, understand, we gotta split
I switched the locks on the door
Started packin like I was goin on a motherfuckin world tour
Grabbed my bags and my gun
C?mon we gotta go… I?m on the motherfuckin run

Now I?m drivin and I?m lookin at my passport
I?m outta here soon as my ass hit the airport
I loaded up the automatic
I don?t believe this shit, I?m stuck in motherfuckin traffic
I?m gettin nervous as a fuck see
A lincoln continental pullin right up beside me
Puts down my bitch and then I bent low
gunfire, breaking glass bullets are flying through my window
The enemy is on attack
Drew the nine and cocked the hammer and I fired at the bitches back
I gotta take my respect
My bullets hittin italian motherfuckers in the neck
Looked at my bitch a bullet struck her
Put in another clip, cause I ain?t givin up a motherfucker
Niggaz runnin up in trenches
Sprayin at my car, only missin me by fuckin inches
Stepped on the gas pedal, how bad my bitch is harmed?
Shit they only hit her in the fuckin arm
Now I?m drivin off sidewalks, makin sharp turns
My son is catchin motherfuckin heartburns
I got the car shakin wildly
I made a turn, and then I dipped my shit into a dark alley
They drove right past, now all this chasin shit is done
I?m on the motherfuckin run

The next thing I know, it was daylight
And I been sleepin in this motherfucker all night
I started pullin on my hoe
C?mon man what? wake up bitch, we gotta go!
Pulled out the alley, then I dipped
Looked down and picked up the nine and put more rounds in the clip
You know I?m headin south no doubt
And I don?t give a fuck where, as long it?s a hideout
Finally we crossed the border, I pulled into a station
To fill up the tank, and get a drink of water
Pullin over to park my ride
That?s when I noticed this limousine comin up on my left side
Then the sucker started rammin me
Then I looked, it was the luciano family
Looked at my bitch she started cryin, my finger on the trigger
I pulled it – bullets started flyin
Now I?m hittin all them bastards
I?m droppin em fast, splashin blood out niggaz asses
Then I?m finally done and
I took em all out, but I caught one in the stomach
Now I?m lookin for survivors
So I ran up on the side of the car, and hit the driver
And then I laid low
The only motherfucker left was don luciano
So I snuck up the sucker
Put my gun to his head, whassup now motherfucker?
He said, wait, I want to talk
five gunshots I put his brains on the sidewalk
Another life I had to waste
He fell on his back, and then I spit right in his guinea face
He saw the barrel of the devil?s gun
Now I?m no longer on the motherfuckin run

[Bronx_Bomber]

Or how about the great Lord Finesse…

This is not a classroom so put your hands down
Aww fuck it let me tell you who I am now
Finesse is my nickname the way that I kick game
Girls don’t try to figure me out cause it’s a dick thang
I kick rhymes with beats that slam with force
I’m so gifted my name should be Santa Claus
Cause I flow in fact I got the better show
I’m the baddest motherfucker that you’ll ever know
I get hype and live on a party tip
I kick more ass than the star of a karate flick
So just chill, don’t even play yourself
Grab a seat watch Finesse, behave yourself
I school MC’s on the R-A-P scoop
If you wanna diss me that’s OK with me troop
I finish the album, I’m still kickin new shit
So step to this you’ll get snapped like a toothpick
And those who think, Finesse is in last place
You gets the bozack AND the motherfuckin Gas Face
Yeah, keep your distance
Bite one rhyme I’ll be forced to put a fist in action
or motion, cause I’ve got the potion
My frame of mind is deep like the ocean
Call me Jaws because I’m eatin yours
or call me a star because I go on tours
or call me Swift because it ain’t no myth
A brother got a rift then I’m forced to lift
that means kill deceased when a brother got a beef
I swell up eyes or I knock out teeth
Now you can’t beat this or even get with this
Watch Mike Smooth spin it back with the quickness

• DJ Mike Smooth cuts n scratches *

[Lord Finesse]
Make way for the brother called Finesse
The man with the S on his chest, can’t even mess
with the player, funky rhyme sayer
I make crazy paper, whenever I kick the flavor
Attract or I’ll rag it, shit gets dramatic
Suckers had it, bitches cling like static
I’m a brother that people wanna see more
MC’sll get rode up and down like a see-saw
or played like blackjack as I kick a fat rap
Those that’re rude or intrude’ll get a backslap
Cause I get raw, or smooth like Camay
Fuckin plan B! I’m gettin over with plan A!
I can show and prove why brothers can’t last with me
… as soon as the mic gets passed to me
Y’all need to chill, cause y’all over the hill
MC’s that can’t deal need to leave the field
… and head for the back door
Cause if it wasn’t a Lord Finesse, then who would you clap for?
Don’t let your friends soup you up and gas you
Cause I fuck you up, and kick your crew ass too
I stand superior, from here to Siberia
That’s why when I’m around, brothers leave the area
I’m the type to wreck a show, scoop then sex a hoe
Then I cool the fuck out like a eskimo
So hold on, better yet you better hang on
Shit, I break a motherfucker like a crayon
Punks who don’t know, you know I’m gonna school em
They touch my mic, they got a ass-whippin comin to em
Cause I get raw off a bass drum
I make strong moves but shit, I never fake none
The smooth celebrity, none is ahead of me
You say you’re sorry, well you damn well better be
I get raw, I’m not the type to slip and fall
when I get up and perform my shit for y’all
I’m not havin it, I wish a nigga would answer me
I flip faster than a brother on a trampoline
Set it off real quick, drop the crazy ill shit
So stop sweatin me, get off the dilznick
I’m waitin for those, who wanna flip
Cause this ain’t as funky as I’m gonna get
On a fast tip, I still drop the mad shit
Come one come all, step up, you’ll get your ass whipped
When it comes to skills I’m all that plus more
Throw your hands in the air, and praise the Lord

[Bronx_Bomber]

or from his funky technician album…

Lord Finesse is the brother that you have to hear
I flow smooth like clouds in the atmosphere
I’m spectacular so damn terrifyin
That wack MC’s don’t think about ever tryin
To dis or flip cause what it boils down to
You won’t survive to step to me in round 2
I stand and expand like a great man
And swing a party like Tarzan the apeman
Say rhymes that are necessary make em extra-scary
Watch Finesse and take notes like a secretary
I get furious, display experience
Lord Finesse is nasty, period

(You nasty, baby)

[VERSE 2]
Lord Finesse in effect with the master rap
And I flip on the mic like a acrobat
I won’t fret, step, but I’ll make a rep
Usin vinyl wax, or a tape cassette
Think I’m weak? Take your next look
And get schooled and read like a textbook
Cause I’m the better man, and I never ran
MC beat me? I give credit to whoever can
Cause I terrify, scare, and horrify
Couldn’t win against me if you let your father try
Hang and socialize, rhymes just multiply
Me and Mike get with it cause we both are fly
Lyrical lecture, word architecture
Rap director, the best in my sector
Microphone cool chief releasin the smooth speech
I get nasty with a pen and some loose leaf

(You nasty, baby)

[VERSE 3]
Lyrical summary, there’s only one of me
Lord Finesse is far from a wanna-be
Cause I can get funky and smooth like cashmere
And slay a rapper with rhymes I said last year
So don’t try roastin or toastin me, or even approachin me
I break you physically and emotionally
So damn fly at this, so don’t even try to dis
Put rhymes together like a stupid mad scientist
In a laboratory, I’m a brother with a badder story
Lord Finesse stand tops in my category
MC’s are petrified with nowhere left to hide
I slay a rapper and go: "What’s up, who’s next to try?
I ain’t havin it, poetical graduate
And me get whipped by who? Imagine it
MC’s are in jeopardy as soon as they step to me
I’m the man ladies break they neck to see
Highly explosive and nothin to joke with
Cause I can get funky on a fast or the slow tip
Cause I’m badder, but it doesn’t matter
Sharp like a dagger, able to rag a
Booty MC who dares try to play me
Cause even the ladies tell me (You nasty, baby)

[VERSE 4]
I rock the science and drop the math
And I sketch up rhymes just like Arts & Crafts
Foes mumble, babble get crushed cause they fragile
Release more words than in three games of Scrabble
MC Lord Finesse, I reign with supremacy
I take one, two, or a team of three
Or ten of em cause I could never sound feminine
When gettin funky for the ladies and gentlemen
Remarkable, I came to rock the show
Wax MC’s like a bottle of Mopping Glow
Lord of rap, and many can’t afford to snap
And I throw and score like a quarterback
Shoot for the touchdown, I’m from Uptown
Lord Finesse in effect, so what’s up now?
Rhyme, slide, and glide, but fit perfectly
A swift genius, but no need to worship me
I remain hot to make your brain drop
Cause I’m a river, and you’re just a raindrop
Bronx is where I come from, far from a dum-dum
Brothers be runnin just to dial 911
Lord Finesse in effect to get lose now
My pockets stay fat like a goose down
I use the master brain and drive in a faster lane
Puttin rhymes in shape just like Jack Lalane
Fix it, balance it cause I’m talented
I write fly lyrics and dare others to come challenge it
I can get nifty, funky, or even fancy
(Baby that’s nasty)
I know, but yo, let’s just flow
Cause fast or slow I still get the dough
And the ladies to cheer and praise me
And tell me when I rhyme (You nasty, baby

[Bronx_Bomber]

“Mmm mm mm ain’t that something?”
“Damn it feels good to see people up on it”
(repeat 4X)

Lord Finesse in effect cause I rhyme hard
Look good flow smooth yeah the whole nine yard
Wear and tear MC’s that step near
I make the girl strip naked and just give it here
it’s like taking candy from a kid in a baby carriage
Suckers vanish because I do crazy damage
Crews I smoke and diss, don’t even joke with this
Just listen to the sounds of the Funky Vocalist

Chorus

Now I’m the man with intellect, no one to disrespect
I kick a rhyme and make MC’s wanna hit the deck
And give it up and use they rhymes as a sacrifice
Brothers try they best, they ain’t even half as nice
They try to kick it, by using that softer rap
Me sound wack? Nigga please, come off of that
I’m mystical, musical, I might confuse a few
Lord Finesse gettin funky as usual
Releasin some fresh words, sparkin the neck work
cause I’m the expert, wearin sneakers and sweatshirts
Jeans and hoods, there’s no doubt that I rap good
I ?walk with a bout? with my hat turned backwards
To many, I may look like a hoodlum
But I’m a rapper and a pretty damn good one
Cause I can get smooth and mild or wild like a juvenile
Or get swift with the gift and just lose the crowd
State the facts, create the raps
Those who try to down me, better step out my face with that
Cause I can get raw like many or any one of them
I take a nine when you rate me from one to ten
I got skills so don’t try approachin me
I keep rhymes in stores just like groceries
Don’t try to snap troop, cause this man be strapped
Come correct you be leavin home handicapped
in a straightjacket, or a wheelchair
(Finesse lost your touch?) Naah, it’s still there
So wannabees and competition
Beware of Lord Finesse, the Funky Technician

Chorus

I’m untouchable, with the skills to crush a crew
When it comes to rhymes it’s a must that I bust a few
Keep the crowd listening I’m so magnificent
it even says Finesse on my birth certificate, I’m the
man of bravery skill and chicanery
I get the ladies cause I use my brain you see
And that’s no surprise you might get pulverized
If you sleep, so don’t even close your eyes
I go and flow, I even give crews advice
To make it short, I’m crazy stupid nice
Using bad words, pronouns and adverbs
Putting english together just like a mad nerd
MC’s I stomp and scare, I make em lose they hair
I rip the mic and take it home as a souveneir
Rough and tough cause I come from a bad block
Watch your girl with a chain and a padlock
I go solo, far from a homo
That’s a no no, get more sex than a porno
When it comes to rhymes I write my own
speak in a hyper tone, when rippin a microphone
So those steppin to me better have somethin hype to say
I cook MC’s faster than you can in a microwave
I’m the type that’ll give any man a chance
to come correct before leavin in a ambulance
So those that’s dissin and flippin better listen
to Lord Finesse - the Funky Technician

[Bronx_Bomber]

or his protege Big L…

Malcolm X]
Stealing runs rampant in Harlem
Gambling runs rampant in Harlem
All types of evils and uhh, vices that terrified our community
run rampant in Harlem
[Big L]
The microphone is through when this rap legend grab it
Sendin poems to have them faggots diggin hoes like Reverand Swaggart
L’s the nigga that crime follows
I’m hittin fine models and stabbin folks with broken wine bottles
I beat chumps til they head splits, then break em like breadsticks
I sex chicks, I’ll even fuck a dead bitch
Always sprayin Tecs, because I be stayin vexed
Some nigga named Dex, was in the projects layin threats
I jumped out the Lincoln, left him stinkin
Put his brains in the street
Now you can see what he was just thinkin
I’m chokin enemies til they start turnin pale
Satan said I’m learnin well, Big L’s gonna burn in hell
Front nigga start it cause your rap style ain’t even hard
I run with a fevered squad, and NONE OF US believe in God
Chorus: McGruff, Big L
[McG] Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
[Big] Where no man can withstand or hold his own
[Big] Cause one-three-nine and Lennox is the Danger Zone
[McG] Where no man can withstand or hold his own
[Big L]
I got styles you can’t copy bitch, it’s the triple six
in the mix, straight from H-E-double-hockey sticks
Every Sunday, a nun lay from my gun spray
FUCK how Lethal be doin shit, the devil son’s way
Every minute, my style switches up, they said a real man
won’t hit a girl well I ain’t real cause I beat bitches up
I use words that’s ill, L got nerves of steel
I’m cool, but every now and then I get a urge to kill
I’m takin lives for a great price, I’m the type
to snap in heaven with a Mac-11 and rape Christ
And I’m fast to put a cap in a fag chest
The Big L smash stress, cause hell is my address
I’m on some satanic shit, strictly, little kids
be wakin up cryin, yellin, “Mommy Big L is comin to get me!”
Chorus 2X
[Big L]
I keep a cutie with a soft booty, hoes be runnin up
“Can I get your autograph L?” No bitch, I’m off duty
I’m breakin hottie hearts, niggaz drop when my shotty sparks
It ain’t no food in my fridge; just body parts
I keep the gear fresh, I keep the braids rugged
I never wear, brothers bitch, if I get AIDS, fuck it!
A beef with me, you better prevent it cause in a minute
I’ll jump out a tenant rented, and leave a nigga body dented
And my swoll knob your main girl cold slobbed
and gave a blow job to my whole mob, with no prob’
Aiyyo crazy bitches slept with L
Then they niggaz got mad and tried to step to L
But I’m sicker than a nigga that’s in special ed so I suggest
you spread pretzelhead, 'fore I turn your white sweats to red
Chorus 2X

[Bronx_Bomber]

It’s the number one crew in the area.

Big L:
Big L be lightin’ niggas like incense
Gettin’ men lynched to win tits
I’m killin’ infants for ten cents
Cause I’m a street genius with a unique penis
Got fly chicks on my dick that don’t even speak English
I’m makin’ ducks shed much tears
I buck queers
I don’t have it all upstairs but who the fuck cares?
I’m grabbin’ brews takin’ fast swiggas
I get cash and stash figures and harass them bitch ass niggas
After you you’re gonna get scared next
And if ya squad flex
I’m lettin’ off like Bernard Getts
A tech nine is my utensil
Fillin’ niggas with so much led they can use they dick for a pencil
I’m known for snatchin’ purses and bombin’ churches
I get more pussy on accident then most niggas get on purpose
I got drug spots from New York to Canada
Cause Big L be fuckin’ with more keys than a janitor

Lord Finesse:
Now it’s the dictator who’s style is greater
It’s the man with more wild flavors than motherfuckin’ Now & Laters
And rappers I hit ‘em well
They automatically go to heaven fuckin’ with me cause I give ‘em hell
So don’t try to front troop
When your style is played out just like an Oshkosh jumpsuit
I’m out to collect figures
I’m on some Wu-Tang shit so Protect Ya fuckin’ Neck nigga
Not a role model I’m a bad figure
When it comes to rap I got skills out the ass nigga
I got it locked like a warden
Rap without Finesse is like the NBA without Jordan
So all ya new jacks kickin’ wack raps
It’s a fact that
I’ll be on your fuckin’ back like a napsack
It ain’t shit you can tell me
Cause bitches still jock me without a motherfuckin’ LP

[Bronx_Bomber]

Beef? You wanted beef, then here you go. (and sorry, I would have grabbed his older freestyles, but ohhla was blocked on this computer)

[Bronx_Bomber]

I didn’t paste this did I.

Mike Tyson here speakin with the Cannibus man over here
Your main objective out here is to nothing but
Eat Eat Eat Eat MC’s for lunch breakfast
Hey man, they been playin me all my life man
You know I won a title a couple a times did right
but they can’t hurt us man
We gonna do it, get up in this ring man, puttin these gloves
Let me show you how to handle this lil nigga

So I’ma let the world know the truth, you dont want me to shine
You studied my rhyme, then you laced your vocals after mine
Thats a bitch move, somethin that a homo rapper would do
So when you say that you platinum you only droppin clues
I studied your background, read the book that you wrote
Research the footnotes bout how you used to sniff coke
Frontin like a drug free role model, you disgust me
I know bitches that seen you smoke weed recently
You walk around showin your body cuz it sells
Plus to avoid the fact that you aint got skillz
Mad at me cuz i kick that shit real niggas feel
When 99% of your fans wear high heels
From Ice-T to Kool Moe Dee to Jay-Z
Now you want to fuck with me you must be crazy
You drippin with wack juice and you can’t get it off
You betta be prepard to finish what you start

Hey hey hey. You just hold it right there
We got an illegal low blow the fighter in the blue trunks
If I see one more of those your outta here brotha, you understand
You’ll be disqualified
Stop bein a bitch, we came to see a fight

Yo Canibus man you gotta hit harder then that man
You dont want no bitch ass niggaz hangin out wit me man
We’re warriors man
When we go into battle we come out or don’t come out at all

Yo, you betta give me the respect that I deserve
or I’ma take it by force
Blast you with a 45 colt, make you summersault
Shock you with a couple hundred thousand volt thunderbolts
Before you wanted a war, now you wanna talk
It’z about who strikes the hardest not who strike first
Thats why I laugh when I hear that wack ass verse
That shit was the worse rhyme I ever heard in my life
Cuz the greatest rapper of all time died on March 9th
God bless his soul, rest in peace kid
It’s because of him at least I know what beef is.
it’s not what I would call this
See this is somethin different
a faggot nigga tryin ta make a livin off of dissin
Somebody that he gotta know is betta then him
When he feelin himself cuz he got more chedda then him
Well lemme tell you somethin, you might have more cash then me
But you aint got the skillz to eat a nigga ass like me
And if you really want to show off, we can get it on
Live in front of the cameras on your own sitcom
I’ll let you kick a verse, fuck it, I’ll let you kick’em all
I’ll even wait for the studio audience to applaud

Now watch me rip tha tat from your arm
Kick you in the groin, stick you for your Vanguard award
In front of your mom your 1st, 2nd and 3rd born
Make your wife get on the horn call Minister Farrakhan
So he could persuade me to squash it, I say naw he started it
He forgot what a hardcore artist is
A hardcore artist in a dangerous man
Such as myself trained to run 20 miles in soft sand, on or off land
Programed to kick hundreds of bars off hand
From a lost and forgotten land, you done did it man
You done spitted some wack shittit
And probably thought that because it’s been a minute I’ll forget it
Fuck that, cause like Common and Cube
I see the bitch in you and I’ma make the world see it too
Motherfucker

Ladies and gentelman, we have a new lyrical weight champion
By 2nd round knock out, 3 minutes and 40 seconds Can-i-bus

Yo, Canibus man you movin like Mike Tyson ? man
You in and out and you agile with you flow man
But dig right, you got you got meet man, thats your name Canibus
Your whole agenda is to eat these niggaz man
They have no business to be in the same stage with you
holdin the mic with you

[Bronx_Bomber]

and the Godfather of beef, KRS one, The bridge is over. I also could’t grab those lyrics, but he shut queens down for like 5 years after that.

How about old school chino, yeah, stop sleeping…

They call me lyrical…Jesus
They call me lyrical…Jesus
I’m only second to…Jesus
I’m only lyrical…Jesus
Now as I’m peeling myself down off of the crucifix
Smiling like Jesus in the den of thieves tempting bitches
Like the serpent tempted Eve
Making it rain for seven days and seven nights
Had several beats and several careers and several fights
My lyrical rites make your spine hottest
My rhymes stand out like a white boy on the Globetrotters
Only child stuck up, selfish
Buy my records and shine my shoes, treat a nigga like Elvis
Ancient, melodic, mystic messiah
Make MC’s heads bob like Muhammad Ali’s from Parkinson’s disease
Flows you get lost in
Louder than Michael Irvin when he’s snortin’
Taking a time machien to talk my mommy into giving an abortion
I don’t want to hear you wack motherfuckers hating me
Niggas is Australian they’re so far beneath me
Ever since Pac dissed me, Jersey tried to front on me
Now I’m so vain/vein you could probably draw blood from me
So why you doubtin?
I’m embezzling more money than Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s accountant
And spitting blood like Gene Simmons but that’s irrelevant
This industry prays I go away like Arrested Development
Smilin(?) in a tenement
Now they got me on rewind to dig up a piece of my mind
But if y’all dig any deeper you might not like what you find
Pac died and I cried but I’mma represent it
When it comes to dissing my shit make Makaveli sound like Macarena
Jesus Christ superstar immunity
Got you apologizing like Marlon Brando did the whole Jewish community
Hiding like Anne Frank, your mind is stomped like I wrote Mein Kampf
Changing stone rhymes to bread with one wave of my hands
Son of God, defy me better have a whole army
Or make plans to leave America using the maps of Marcus Garvey
Back up off me, nah nigga it ain’t all good
My name is offa more blocks than Lexuses is Puerto Rican neighborhoods
Make you shut the fuck up, like wifey when the fight’s on
Lyrical Jesus, I got Satan sleeping with the lights on
I have existed before man and will exist after man
I am an everyman yet I am no man therefore I am a God
Sounds odd
But my talent is priceless
So I rise on the wicked and the good
And rain on the righteous and the unrighteous
Jesus
They call me lyrical…Jesus
I’m a spiritual…Jesus
I’m only second to…Jesus
Straigt up, yo Kurt drop some old school shit
Drop an old beat so we can reminsce on something check it
Rappers stepping to me…they wanna get some
But I’m XL so yo, you know the outcome
Another victory, keep that gun in your holster
My rhymes is off the wall like my Big Daddy Kane poster
I gets a lot of love the beat searchers hate it man
Come as recycled bullshit but you’re leaving as a Chino fan
That’s how I know I’m God; nobody believes in me
I make you wait while I stand in handicapped parking legally
Erik Estrada making chips
Handling fists to get rich
I’m going overboard like strong-willed Africans off of ships
Illest lyrics ever invented, said it, meant it
You’re hearing more claps than inside a Vietnam V.D. clinic, get it?
Listen inattentive and get no wins
Don’t make me get beside myself like identical twins
My cynical friends still quoting my old rhymes, my mind is a gold mine
The shit is bugged like Martin Luther King’s phone lines
Closed minds mass phenomenon, starving like Ramadan
If lines was episodes of Star Trek you niggas couldn’t Kling-on
Bugged out metaphor
Got east coast bitches saying “No he didn’t”
While down south bitches be like “Oh no, hell no”
I made a man blind
So he didn’t have to witness the wickedness of world gone cold
Falling off on stages like Bob Dole
Trying to keep my balance
Cause good and evil are having a custody battle over my soul
Like Macaulay Culkin’s parents
My hair’s like lamb’s wool, so fuck what your friends say
You don’t want to get off on the wrong foot like Kunta Kente
So now it’s going down, ta-dow
Niggas better learn how to rhyme
Before they tell the lyrical Jesus he should bow down
Love your enemies, even in the lion’s den
Turn them to a pillar of salt, forgive them Father they know not why
they sin
Niggas coming sideways, and I’ve been that in the past
But now I’m half past giving a shit
And at a quarter 'til I’mma bust your fucking ass!
Just chill
They call me lyrical…Jesus
They call me lyrical…Jesus
I’m only second to…Jesus
They call me lyrical…Jesus
I’m sending rappers to…
Guess I have to explain this one too

[Bronx_Bomber]

Yeah crazy ups and downs you know what I’m sayin’? Crazy how the
world
runs word up. Check it out. Bring it on.
Hook:
Lord I try to keep positive but this life is full of strife
And I’m tired of trying to conquer it
Lord always thinking negative what will go wrong will go wrong
Until the beast in me vanishes
Verse 1:
First of all I was born under a bad sign confinded to torcher
Never saw what life had to offer
Time slips away like pop singles on the radio
Chino never had the doe, I was determined though
Sabotaged at birth, cursed by an evil angel to strangle
My aspirations from every angle
From a street corner to a demo deal from Warner
Hardcore performer, crowd warmer, thought it was on but it wasn’t
I never got no budget, stuck like a glue trap
It goes to prove that
Being the greatest lyricist can’t paint the full picture
It’s a full mixture, I can’t get no, no satisfaction
Like being blind watching a movie with no closed caption
I need some time to ease my mind, I’m bested
Fuck Mr. Wendal my Development is Arrested
All I wanted to do was rock with my fast ass
And blast past the mass, collect quick cash
Did what I did best create, but began to hate
All these flake music people makin’ artists wait
But I’m a be up there one day
And soon to slam wax innovate rhymes that my fans consume
I view this world through my notepad
Thus expanding my vocab to win, till then, it’s all bad
Hook (x2)
Verse 2:
When I was merely a sophmore, went to Atlanta on a false tour
This ain’t what I prayed so hard for
Dreams broken into individual particles like porcelain
Figurings attached to me like barnacles
Now I’m suppose to be happy like Bobby McFerrin
Keep faith, the only thing holy is the drawers I’m wearin’
89’ I aimed to graduate, no exaggerate
Evaporating positive energy from inside of me
To the point where my love for God no more provides for me
Of course lost pride, obviously the force rides
To paradise nobody invites but puts the Bill Of Rights
1430 SAT proving ya, I’m a spick that’ll die respective like Rahoul
Julia
So cease with, all that street shit
Expect MC from Chi kid, you gets the wicked priest shit
Until I see fit, to open my life strife like the pearly gates of
heaven
For ? entertainment this is my expression
Prepare wealth and I’ll share self, maybe I can help
But I’m lost but I be large anywhere else
The ill eagle, twisted, war novelist
The problem swallowed us, it takes an activated mind to follow this
And true to realm to be ourselves, not to follow a fad or give in to
trends
Till then, it’s all bad
Hook (x2)
Verse 3:
Unanswereed prayers plays the background, I pull my baseball caps down
I hide the tracks of my tears from rapping peers
I finally got on and soon he wasn’t a moment to
I lose my mind, I lose my friends, my daughter and a coma too
I’m going through a strange tug of war inside my mental wall
Record just went platinum, I’m slapping 'em, I’ll show you all
Cover of Rolling Stones, Vibe even TV Guide
Was filming my first movie in L.A. when I heard my baby died
Shook it off without a thought that she was beautiful
Soul Train Awards I go to not my daughters funeral
I stay drunk and high like I’m imperial
Surrounded by more white groupies than a Rakim video
Now life’s a tour to me, except the way I was rejected formally
Disrespected neighborhoods I know supported me
It’s eating me, suicide attemps repeatedly
What I worked so hard for, ultimately is defeating me
I’m paranoid my own mom can’t avoid being a tabloid
So she wasn’t shocked when my baby flopped
Caught in the industry, spending money feverishly
Now I’mve been robbed, I can’t believe my laywers did this to me
Next album was filled up with tragedy and despair
Fans with smiling faces with no real purpose for being here
I call the dear Lord when in Billboard
I plummet from 3 to 10 I guess failure is my new trend
Thought I was all that, now I just fall flat, splat
Vails of crack, my old friends won’t let me call back
So where in mind can I find myself a misty storm invisible to God
I’m falling off like TJ Swan
Hook (x2

[Bronx_Bomber]

Let’s not forget the legendary kane…

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 (16X)

…

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 (16X)

…

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, B-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!

[Bronx_Bomber]

how about Mr. Welfare…

[Red] Yo, whassup Big Daddy?
[Kane] Aiyyo whassup Red Alert? I’m chillin Duke
[Red] Yo do me a favor man – pleeeeeease tell me
about these big ol bubblehead girls out here

[Big Daddy Kane]
Well hey, you know that lady on the top floor of my buildin?
The heavyset one with about ten children?
You may remember her as a slim honey
when her man name was Pimp Daddy Hustler Stack Money
A big time drug dealer from around the way
Slingin rocks, makin G’s everyday
He drove a big fat Mercedes Benz
and even bought her a car to perpetrate for her friends
It was a brand new Jag, with the spoiler and rag
And the girl was a nag, cause all she did was just brag
I mean baaaaaaaaaaad – we know your coat cost a lot
You didn’t have to leave on the price tag
And count the times her stomach got plump
Havin baby after baby by the same old chump
And then the day came, he left the dame shamed
But who’s to blame? Y’all know the name of the game
Pimp Daddy’s wanted as he maxes and relaxes
She can’t even sue for money, pushers don’t pay taxes
So what’s to do? Oh yeah
To feed ten mouths, she had to call on Mr. Welfare

[Red] What? Mr. Welfare?
Man they playin high-post with low income
Check this out – when y’all go around to the corner
y’all gonna check out another episode
Go like somethin like this…

[Big Daddy Kane]
Hey, if you think that suck, bust this
Another little story as I reminisce
about an old friend of mine that was livin out of order
Makin money like water (illlllll-egal?) Yeah, sorta
He sold drugs and robbed a lot of people
But in these days and times, who lives illegal?
It’s all about who knows the trade
and who am I to knock him? Homeboy was gettin paid
He chose his own lifestyle to live - it was negative
but his own prerogative
Makin cash to flash and stash in half the trash
The cops made the dash (sufferin succotash!)
Because he had to do ten in the pen
and then begin again to apprehend, huh
But what’s lost is lost, the reign is over
(Huhhh, see ya!) Nice to know ya
Money, no longer can he collect it
Can’t even get a job cause he got a jail record
So what’s left? No hopes of a career
So yeahhh, he’s callin Mr. Welfare!

[Red] Mr. Big Daddy Kane
They don’t know what time it is about Mr. Welfare
Do me a favor – open up your book to page fifteen
at the top and read it off like thisssssssss

[Big Daddy Kane]
Here’s a story of a guy who had to cop out his life
for bein a high school dropout
In the ninth grade he wanted to get paid
but now the young brother needs government aid
Because in his past he decided to cut class
and run in the streets to make ends meet
No shame in the game of his
but silly rabbit, Trix are for kids!
So when you sat on the corner with a 40 ounce
talkin bout whattup? Can’t even pronounce
your words correct, now in retrospect
that’s a shame - but in '89, who gives a heck?
There’s no type of path to follow
It’s all about a dollar, fuck bein a scholar
That’s why your report card’s through
Like a BizMark beat, it reads eww-eww-eww-eww-eww!
So now you wanna wake up and smell the coffee?
Lookin for a helpin hand, but get off me!
I tried to tell you the deal last summer
Stay in school, and get yourself a diploma
Now you’re on your own, tryin to make it alone
No food or home, chewin on a meaty bone
So what’s to do since the cupboard is bare?
Brrring brrring! Call on Mr. Welfare

[Red] Yo Kane, that’s the story about my man Mr. Welfare huh?
[Kane] Yo like Chuck D said, how low can you go
[Red] If she go any lower, she gonna have a personal problem
Yo my man Mister Cee, cut it up money!

• Mister Cee cuts “welll-fare” *

[Kool DJ Red Alert]
We-eh-el-el-el, el-el-elllllllfare, c’mon!
Yeah Mr. Welfare
He on some new stuff, what what is it?
He all new and improved?
Right? Yeah, like that old Bug-Out stuff
This guy, is he alright or what?
I think he on a mission with no kind of learnin
You know what Big Daddy Kane?
We gonna have to take care of this matter
Mister Cee, go ahead, cut it up
My man Big Daddy Kane gonna see about my man Mr. Welfare alright?
Places to go, people to see, things to do,
and you know what else to get… see ya!
Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhsss

[Bronx_Bomber]

And I’ll leave you with this 97 Classic that even outshone Wu Tang’s triumph (not sure how far back you’re considering oldschool)

and if you don’t know who this is, hang up your rap listening card.

The harsh realities of life is takin tolls
Even Jesus Christ forsake my soul
Please tell me what price to pay to make it home
Take control, I’m makin dough, but not enough to blow
J.O.'s, they lust my flows, but aiyyo, I don’t trust a soul
That’s all I know or need to, these evil streets’ll meet you
halfway and eat you, I laugh tryin to survive illegal
I leave you lost, bounce you on the cross, rip you like a horse
Sacrife your life to a higher force
Then I stomp your corpse it’s the Bronx of course recognize the accent?
One of the last livin still in action, general assassin
Catchin any wreck, blastin any tech
Smashin any chest, passin any test, Charles Manson in the flesh
Any last requests before you meet your maker?
Sew what you reap a wake up, shakin up a storm like Anita Baker
I’ll take you straight to hell and fill your heart with hate
Incarcerate your fate in Satan’s fiery lake, then I lock the gate
Make no mistake, “The Shit is Real” as Joe, we follow the killer’s code
When we come for you, tell me where will you go?
Nowhere to run, hide, I’ll find you and and silence your screams
And even if you kill me I’ll still be in your fuckin dreams

[Hook]
You ain’t a killer, you still learnin how to walk
From New York to Cali all the real niggaz carry chalk
Mark you for death, won’t even talk that East and West crap
From Watts to Lefrak, it ain’t where you’re from it’s where’s your gat

[Verse 2]
You made a grave mistake
Shouldn’t of come here, you changed your fate
Your brains’ll make the debut on the table when I raise the stakes
The pain is great but only for a second
It starts strong then lessens
Just when you restin the Armaggedon sets in
Left him with so much stress (T.S.) blessed him with no regrets (yes)
Welcome to Hell son, the threshold of death
Now face the serpent, I blaze your person you get laced for certain
Even Jakes don’t trace the work so close the case to curtains
I’m hurtin, head severely really tryin to bring the pain
There’s nuttin mo’ satisfyin than when you cryin screamin my name
It’s not a game, it’s Purple Rain, floods and bloodstains
Big Pun’s my thug’s name, bustin my guns, that’s my love thang
I split the jug’ vein and snatch your Adam’s Apple
John Madden tackle your corpse
then hoist it on the cross at the tabernacle
That’ll have to hurt, I’ll work your body 'til it burst
Then curse tu vida, like a Brujeria verse
I’m worse than anything you ever been through
Sick in the head and mental
Essentially meant to be the soul frentic mental
When you awaken, your manhood’ll be taken
Fakin like you Satan, when I’m the rhymin abomination

[Hook] - 2X

[Verse 3]
It’s hard to analyze which guys is spies, be advised people
We recognize who lies, it’s all in the eyes chico
We read 'em and see 'em for what they are
Theives in undercover cars, takin my picture like I’m a fuckin star
I’m up to par, my game is in a smash
With half a million in the stash
Passport with the gas, first name and last
Ask anybody if my men are rowdy
Give me the mini-shottie I body a nigga for a penny probably
I’m obligated to anything if it’s crime related
If it shine I’ll take it, still in my prime and I finally made it
I hate the fact that I’m the last edition
Probably a stash magician
Could of went to college and been a mathematician
Bad decisions kept me out the game
Now I’m strickly out for cream
Doin things to fiends I doubt you’ll ever dream
My team’s the meanest thing you ever seen
Measured by the heaven’s King, down to the devil’s mezzanine
I never screamed so loud, I’m proud to be alive
Most heads died by twenty-five, or catch a quick 3 to 5
So be advised, the streets is full of surprises
It’s not what crew’s the livest
One that survive is who’s the wisest

[Hook] - 2X

[WideGuy]

Bout a month later
They found his body stashed
In a trash bag wit a cucumber in his ass
Cross em out and put a K

WSCG

Woke up
Didn’t choke up
Saw my AK
It was broke up
Put it together like a jigsaw
Grabbe my 9 and my ramboo knife off the floor
Went to the bathroom and people rushed
Yo HO THE FUCK USED MY TOOTH BRUSH!
Wen to my sister’s room
Yo bith wake up
You stupid ass
Dirty ass
Nasty ass slut
Shot in the leg
Punched her in the eye
Stepped on her pussy
Bich gotta die
DON’T FUCK WIT MY SHIT WORD IS BORN!
Went down stairs to eat with my folks
MAAA YOU BROKE THE FUCKIN EGG YOLK!
Punched her in the chest then to the cheek
Then I did a sweep knocked the bitch off her feet
Knee to the pussy
Kick to the skull
AK full to empty shot he bitch in the temple
Pops got mad cause ma got licked
Didn’t give a fuck so I shot em in the dick
Ate my food
Found my coat
Mailman came so I CUT HIS MOTHERFUCKIN THROAT
WAITIN FOR THE MUTHERFUCKIN SCHOOL BUS!

Anyone know who that was?

[Bronx_Bomber]

Beaman, Necro ain’t old school, but that joint is hilarious.

P-Dog, what does the location of ericka’s last boyfriend have to do with posting tim dog lyrics.? Admittingly, they are wack, but they’re lyrics (even if I wish a real lyrical cat came out with a comeback).

[humanator]

Now the title "Btch" don’t apply to all women
But all women gotta lil’ btch in ‘em
It’s like a disease that plagues their character
affectin’ the women of america
and it starts with the letter “B”
and makes a girl like that think she better than me

-NWA

[OrdinaryMadness]

how can you forget the classic and appropriate line:
“Liftin’ weights may make you bigga, try ta lift me you be a dead ass ni**a”

[CR1]

Wideguy:

That would be Dre of Black Sheep. Haven’t thought about that one in years. Nice.

C

[white_flash]

i was a fiend, before i became a teen i melted microphones instead of cones of ice cream.

rakim was too bad.
growin up in houston i’ll always have a spot for the geto boys

[Sonny_S]

Aaahhh, NWA are still the kings…Plus, they had Dre backing them up and planning the beats…don’t get nastier that that

I like that Lyrical jesus though, “Chino”? never heard of him, I’ll have to check him ouit

THat Necro rap may actually have offended me! I can’t believe it, I’m pretty hard to offend…