| Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today for this somber occasion.
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| Please join us in the mourning of this U-47. |
| It was a great microphone in its
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| day until it met it’s fate. |
| One evening while it was in the studio
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| It was struck by the lyrical force of the Big Daddy Kane. |
| So ashes to ashes,
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| and dust to dust, may this microphone, rest, in peace
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| Knock knock, guess who? |
| Yes, ooh
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| The Bigger the B, the Iggah the I, the Jigga the G is comin through
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| Yes I’m the one with clout, they’re all talkin' bout
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| To be frank, I have the flavor like sauerkraut
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| The microphone assassinator and furthermore
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| I murdered plenty rappers and believe that I’ll murder more
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| So if you ask to give the Kane a go
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| You better treat me like drugs, and Just Say No
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| Because I utilize my skills to brutalize
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| And in a battle, man, you should see what I do to guys
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| Whenever the mic’s mine, I’ll rock a hype rhyme
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| And come off, like dirty panties at nighttime
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| Cause any mic that I caress, I finesse
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| With zest, and just bless, best yet to progress
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| King Asiatic, no other rapper stands this
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| You couldn’t be a King if you played hockey in Los Angeles
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| I gets pi-daid, top gri-dade, gotta admit-eh
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| Point blank, the kid’s stri-daight
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| Cause when it comes to R-A-P-P-I-N, huh
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| I got it locked up like a bullpen
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «If this meaning doesn’t manifest, put it to rest»
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| Rappers I get em and hit em and slit em and split em and rid em
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| Acquit em, when I get with em, you can tell that I did em
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| I take em and shake em and bake em and ache em and break em
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| And rake em, you can’t awake 'em from the comatose way I make 'em
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| Cause when you’re messin' with me, you know what?
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| You can swallow a live grenade and you still won’t blow up
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| Pickin' up the microphone, you shouldn’t dare
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| It’s like being on a Stairmaster, climbin' and goin' nowhere
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| You’re perpetratin' like you’re ready and able
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| But couldn’t rock a show if the stage was a cradle
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| Your rhymes are old as an artifact, and you don’t want no part of that
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| So don’t even start it black
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| Anyone riffin', I show them how I’m livin'
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| And give them some of that treatment like my man Michael Bivins
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| I smack em up, flip em and then shove em down
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| Huh, oh I-ah-ah-I-ah-I-ah-I don’t be fuckin' around
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| To rip this microphone like this today
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| Since eighty-seven I came a long, long way
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| To headlinin', all the way from supportin'
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| And I know you’ve been watchin' me Norton!
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| Through my whole rap career, a lot of young, huh
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| Rappers sat there, and listened, a lot of young, huh
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| Rappers sat there, and wishin', but
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| You couldn’t see the Kane with X-Ray vision
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| And just because you didn’t see my crew for a few
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| A lot of people thought the Wolfpack was through
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| But if you think the Kane and Scoob and Scrap’ll breakup
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| I tell you like Marvin Gaye, «Wake up, wake up, wake up»
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| Put it to rest, it’s best to 'fess
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| Because the Kane is breakin' rappers like the IRS
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| And consider this microphone the deceased
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| Now may it rest in peace
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «May you rest in peace»
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| «If this meaning doesn’t manifest, put it to rest!» |