[Kane *singing*]

Do you know, what you're goin through?

Do you like this style of rap that I'm showin you?

The way I flow for you.. do you know?

[Kane *rapping*]

Yeah baby c'mon

Ah baby baby c'mon, check the rhyme to the song

Uhh, aw yeah baby c'mon

Ah baby baby c'mon, and check the rhyme to the song

One double nine to the four, gotta keep em on the floor

and put some real lyrics back in the hardcore

What I'm used to hearin, I can't believe it's gone

But now just like a grill inside Burger King, the beef is on

When I come, rappers begin to speak in degrees

I even make Sisters With Voices _Weak in the Knees_

So run for your lives, Kane with the pen

is like Freddy with the glove full of knives

Who wanna test these skills, come see how it feels

I pull you one verse, if that don't kill I got refills

You can't do me none, kid you gets nothin

If my rhymes was in braille, you still couldn't touch em

Man, I'm a bad cat, my style of rap is mad fat

And you know, sometimes it's so sad that

Rappers today be comin as the gangster rhyme type

And be so soft, they wouldn't even kill time right

Here's the news, you lettin the word hardcore be misused

You ain't never paid dues

Be for real, you ain't tough yet

The razor bumps on your throat is the only thing makin you a ruffneck

Your whole image is a dammmmmmmmn sham

I'm glad in this business I didn't forget who I am

I always remain the Kane inside a battle

*singing* Never to walk in anyone's shadow

I do my own thing, I do a thing of my own

And with my competition I let it be known

that battles I don't lose none, boy you get bruised son

Six million ways to