(Big Daddy Kane: Check it out y'all)
[ VERSE 1: Mos Def ]
Well it's the ill funk freaker, keynote speaker
To make a crowd jump up and outshout Eureka!
Gold-struck, I make a whole staff go (buck-)
Nuts when I represent the cuts on the struck, what
Niggas wanna start beef and throw a fit
And puffin out they chest when they can't sing a hit
Shit, son, you know you need to stop that shit
Son, you know you need to stop that shit
Gettin too hot, you 'bout to catch a ill crash landin
I take you to places beyond your deepest understanding
If there's a hell below, then fuck it, we can go
But I really doub that
You can find your route back
It's the outback ranger, sound shape arranger
Spells danger to any punk fakin the funk that got the vapes
With the bump to make your backbone hump
You mistook me for a chump, nigga, you must be drunk
Like a bum on the bus you can play in the rear
Kid, you drink too much beer to even merit my fear
I'm always shinin light bright cause my mind is clear
I got the crisp vocal tone for the world to hear
I flash a grin cause once again the losers can't win
Even as a novice I exhibited promise
So please, you can act surprised if you want
That Mos is a pro, not a dilettant
Call me the pro-active mack with the ludicrously fat shit
That never fail to twist a nigga cap backwards
Beatin 'em numb to the hum of a drum
When the M-o-s come batty done, so run
Deserve a word like phenomenon
Like that
[ VERSE 1: Mos Def ]
Well it's the ill funk freaker, keynote speaker
To make a crowd jump up and outshout Eureka!
Gold-struck, I make a whole staff go (buck-)
Nuts when I represent the cuts on the struck, what
Niggas wanna start beef and throw a fit
And puffin out they chest when they can't sing a hit
Shit, son, you know you need to stop that shit
Son, you know you need to stop that shit
Gettin too hot, you 'bout to catch a ill crash landin
I take you to places beyond your deepest understanding
If there's a hell below, then fuck it, we can go
But I really doub that
You can find your route back
It's the outback ranger, sound shape arranger
Spells danger to any punk fakin the funk that got the vapes
With the bump to make your backbone hump
You mistook me for a chump, nigga, you must be drunk
Like a bum on the bus you can play in the rear
Kid, you drink too much beer to even merit my fear
I'm always shinin light bright cause my mind is clear
I got the crisp vocal tone for the world to hear
I flash a grin cause once again the losers can't win
Even as a novice I exhibited promise
So please, you can act surprised if you want
That Mos is a pro, not a dilettant
Call me the pro-active mack with the ludicrously fat shit
That never fail to twist a nigga cap backwards
Beatin 'em numb to the hum of a drum
When the M-o-s come batty done, so run
Deserve a word like phenomenon
Like that
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