Marksmen

[intro - George Benson and Quincy Jones]
(..) is, uh, the skills. - Yes, he has the skills... - the dexterity to play ! - right, which he earned as a musician that went through the streets (hmhm) Wherever you wanna go .. to get his ability to, uh, .. you know, in a nutshell, the .. what I'm talkin' about is that he's a man that said .. [he] didn't ask the question "How do I get over?"; "How do I get better" - an' better - is what he said. And better, and better, and better. And that's the school I came from

[Mecki Mark Men – Love Feeling sample]

[Verse 1: Ka]
To our production, much destruction for our appetite
With steel fist, if meal missed wasn't for lack of might
We been bingin, we purgin dividends with snub nose
My bud's rose, my service citizens
Cain and Abel, my rappin' plight, wrote on same table they packaged white
Ain't wrapped this tight if catching stripe and ain't actin trife
Vowed the Lord, crows to applaud if ain't clap at night
Drew Tecs, when others was two sexed, hermaphrodite
Tho a bowl full of rodents, you notice no rat in sight
Tried to go hard at school, stayed for the best classes
Just wasn't the sharpest tool, paid for my trespasses
A modest student got saluted when I met masters
Thinking of fam, blinking here, you feel death's lashes
A man with standard flaws, show 'im what the damage caused
No Christmas wishlists, all I got was Santa's claws
When I lost members my friends would say my fam' is yours
Ka move fly jewels though I may never land rewards
You either cookin or chookin', that's how a crook fathom
Cousin said the judge judged, soon as he looked at him
While he plea, could hardly read - still threw the book at him
A true verse, but too terse - I hope the hook grab 'em
I hope my hood grab 'em

[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Yeah, played the oven while youngins played the dozens
My stick came with a drum but I don't play percussion
Not to toot my own trumpet, let the Kal-Tec off in couplets
They thought I was on some Quest Love shit
If I pull a few strings, they'd have to bulletproof their Range
Every note that they play, I arranged
I'm like Barry White, never carry light
Me and the gauge we like soulmates but I'm not the marrying type
Bring your best hand weapons, let's have a jam session
Just for the metal hands, you left a couple band members (man down)
Push keys no piano lessons (nah)
Ambidextrous, two hammers do duets and Willie Manchesters
You hit the notes flat, my whistle blow and make the crystal crack
My gat Minnie Ripperton - chew crippled cats
Twist you back, they gon' have to give you a tissue graft
I guess that's what happens when cymbals clash