Correction Paroles The Symphony, Part II par Marley Marl

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Paroles

[Masta Ace]
I'm about to run, run a race with the rhythm
If you know the bass steps, dance, do it wit 'em
Gotta clock Gs, 'cause a G is worth a thousand
When I kick these types of rhymes I be housin'
All I wanna be, gonna be big shotties
Brothers ain't wit it then I do it for the hotties
But I know they wit it 'cause they know I ain't a phony
And it feels good like Tony! Toni! Toné!
And I like to kick a rhyme, rhyme for the people
Wanna reach the top? Climb, climb to the steeple
Top to high? Well, you best get a ladder
Say you're from the slum? Well, chum, it don't matter
Forget where you're from, it's all about where you're goin'
My name is Masta Ace and I don't tip-toe and
Never stall, fall, lose my grip or take a slip
Make a house call, hit a dip and then I skip
But not to my Lou, I never played hopscotch
Music man, baby, and the rhymes are top notch
Gotta try to uplift, lift the ghetto dweller
I try my best to never riff, riff wit' a fella
A brother sometimes tries to play it like tennis
Then it's time to pull teeth like a dentist
Oh, brother, brother, please don't play it
The rhyme is prime every time that I say it
Action's in effect, nothin' change but the weather
Juice Crew? Nah, but we still rock together

Craig G
(Yo, I believe that's me)
Aiyo, Craig G
(Yo, I believe that's me)
Aiyo, Craig G
(Yo, man, I believe that's me)
Kick it
1,2,3

[Craig G]
Yo, once again, a brother's back to attract many age groups
Sportin' green and beige boots, poppin' like a hula hoop
You step to me and you'll be steppin' to a death wish
You probably thought I'm soft, of course you never met this
I'm not a crazy man, gun-totin' hooligan
But pass a mic to me and rappers I'll be doin' in
So, yo, uh, slide to the left a bit
'Cause I'm about to blow up in the '90s and I bet you get
Jelly and think of tryin' to do me
I work for my spot, so don't try to remove me
'Cause I can swing a rap like a batter hits a fast ball
Put on my track shoes and run right past all
Corny MC's and wannabes
Get played like a permanent crease in your Lees
So, next time the wizard gets you soft as a heart
Don't step to me because I rip the shit apart
Now, this ain't Mr. Rogers and I never play pretend
So, think about it, chump, if you step to me again

Yo, Big Daddy
(Yo, I believe that's me)
Aiyo, Big Daddy
(Yo, I believe that's me)
Big Daddy
(Oooh, I guess that's me)
1,2,3

[Big Daddy Kane]
Uhh, damn, it's true, I'm livin' mathematics
Asiatic, comin' up on the microphone just like an addict
Made to fit, 100% legit
As soon as I hit, ooooh, shit!
'Cause I'm gonna make the audience applaud me and support meAnd award me when they saw me in action with my ???
Sharper than any other instrument
That archeologists can find, never known to mankind
'Cause I'm a rare species
And all you Filthy McNasty MC's can't even see me
You're too fragile to touch this mad style
Girls be runnin' up sayin', "Oooh, you're too bad, child"
So, save your breath and exit stage left
Retreat before you meet defeat and greet death
You and any champion that even tries to touch this
Won't even get to keep his title long as Douglas
See, I'm the wrong one to f*ck with
Oh, you still standin' there? (Yo, yo, look out, duck, kid)
I'm brashin' and bashin', crash and smash MC's
And enemies wit' these
'Cause I make sure everythin' comes out smooth

[Lil' Daddy Shane]
But you know your little brother must deserve his groove
Drop somethin', quick release a rhyme wit' quickness
To let MCs know about my existence
Any MC to last a minute is pure lucky
'Cause I'm the baddest kid that you seen since Chucky

Well, Kool G Rap
(Yo, I believe that's me)
So, G Rap
(Yo, I believe that's me)
So, Kool G Rap
(Yo, I believe that's me)
1,2,3

[Kool G Rap]
Yo, straight out the muthaf*ckin' gutter
I open my shutter to butt-ass brothers
And rip 'em up like a box cutter
You press up? I pull the trigger
I figured nobody could dig a Milli Vanilli-ass nigga
Prepare for shootin' fair, I'm knockin' boots daily
Fruits, I rip 'em out of their Roots like Alex Haley
Here I come straight to the mouth
I'm kickin' it slick, lyrics are harder than a dick inside a whore house
Your neighborhood hero's a zero
I'm sendin' muthaf*ckers on a Midnight Run like DeNiro
So, here goes a rappatittatackle
Feel a steel scalpel pressed up on your Adam's apple
Reach for the pistol and you're crazy
Try to blast and I'll be spinnin' that ass like Patrick Swayze
Said he was frightened when I rocked, they came in a flock
What is this shit, New Kids on the Cock?
Wanna battle? You need a paddle, 'cause shit creek's deep
But since you're ridin' on my dick, you need a saddle
No survivors, I spit 'em out just like saliva
Well, next stop ??? and I'm the driver
So, fake rappers try to diss, you're a little too proud
But niggas on white clouds are on my shit list
Do your ass in like Kennedy's assassin
Murder the whole mass and time for tresspassin'
I flow on notes like a sailor
Hoes are like clothes, I got they ass sewn up just like a tailor
Kool G Rap - one in a million
You're rollin' the dice to get sliced the f*ck up like a Sicilian
A nigga can't do shit for me
G Rap and Marley Marl, I'm signin' out on The Symphony

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