MP3: De La Soul-Rock Co. Kane Flow Feat. MF Do
  Text skladby: De La Soul-Rock Co. Kane Flow Feat. MF Do
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 shit Knock it, knock it 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 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 the 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 need food Eat your teams for sure, the streets sure seem rude For fam like the partridges, pardon him 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 on no one's dick by 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, so amazin' are The three L.I. brothers from a other way of thinkin' Hey, your lady's winkin', I think you need to control that Or I have to hold that
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, so refreshing I think I'll pop these verses like first dates to birthdates September 2 1, 1 9, 6 8 Too old to rhyme, too bad, too late
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