Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Rock Co.Kane Flow , by - De La Soul. Release date: 04.10.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Rock Co.Kane Flow |
| Up in them five-star tellies and two mic rhymes |
| Be them average MC’s of the times |
| Unlike them, we craft gems |
| So systematically inclined to pen lines |
| Without sayin a producer’s name, all over the track |
| Yeah I said it! |
| What you need to do is get back |
| To reading credits, we them medics |
| Alphabetically stuck on that english |
| And knock it out before we pour |
| That sure shot more rock co. |
| kane flow |
| From the top of the key, the 3 Villain |
| Been on in the game as long as you can wheelie your Schwinn |
| Turn the corner spinnin, bust that ass and get up |
| Dust off the mask, whoever laugh give him a head up |
| He got jumped, it pumped his adrenaline |
| He said it made him tougher than a bump of raw medicine |
| To write all night long, the hourglass is still slow |
| Flow from Hellborn to Free Power like Wilco |
| And still owe bills, pay dues forever |
| Slay huge when it comes to who’s more cleverer |
| Use to wore a leather goose ski with a fur collar |
| Hand charged a fee for loose leaf words for dollar |
| Ya heard? |
| Holla — broad or dude, we leave food |
| Eat your team for sure, the streets sure seem rude |
| For fam like the Partridges, pardon me for the mix-up |
| Battle for your Atari cartridges or put your kicks up |
| It’s a stick up |
| Now put your blix up, these Riddick Bowe cuts |
| Is swoll like penile flicks, give 'em 20 |
| The danger in his eyes’ll let you know he’s a brawler |
| Bring your tallest champs like that much taller |
| Ten pounds heavier, one step ahead of it |
| Vocab, stamina, style’s all irrelevant |
| Camps and cliques, units, squad crews and clans |
| Even your tongues’ll fuck around and leave your mouth |
| Doom brung that bum, there goes that news van again |
| Act like you knew like Toucan Sam an' 'em |
| He eat rappers like part of a complete breakfast |
| Your rhymes ain’t worth the weight of they cheap necklace |
| String 'em up, bring 'em up under whack junk snack |
| And get that out your hand, punk, jump and get your dunk smacked |
| Foul, we all know the rules bro |
| You slow, you blow the soup on your fools, his Impulse like Yugo |
| You go lights, camera, action with no makeup |
| We De La to the death, or at least until we break up |
| Here’s a couple of nice guys who finished first |
| So nice try, but the prize is ours dispersed |
| They say the good die young, so I added some |
| Bad-ass to my flavor to prolong my life over the drum |
| Everyone cools off from bein hot |
| It’s about if you can handle bein cold or not! |
| And we was told to hop for no one, s’what I dig bout Prince Paul |
| We stayed original ever since y’all |
| First to do a lot of things in the game, but the last to say it |
| No need to place it on a scale to weigh it |
| And don’t do it for the plays or to raise the bar |
| Yet it’s raised anyway, it’s so amazing, are |
| The three L.I. |
| brothers from a other way of thinkin |
| Hey your lady’s winkin, I think you need to control that aura |
| Or I can hold her |
| The elements are airborne, I smell the success |
| (Yo let’s cookie cut the shit and get the gingerbread, man) |
| Sacrifice mics and push drugs to these rappers |
| Puff ponies 'til I turn blue in the lips |
| Sippin broads like 7-Up (ahh) so refreshing |
| I think I’ll pop these verse like first dates to birthdates |
| September 2−1, 1−9, 6−8 |
| Too old, should I? |
| Too bad, too late |