The Symphony Part II

[Verse 1: Masta Ace]
I'm about to run, run a race with the rhythm
If you know the Big Steps, dance, do it wit 'em
Gotta clock G's, '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 too 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 loo, 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
But brother's sometimes try to play you 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

[Pre-Verse Bridge]
Craig G
(Yo, I believe that's me)
A-yo, Craig G
(Yo, I believe that's me)
A-yo, Craig G
(Yo, man, I believe that's me)
Kick it
1, 2, 3

[Verse 2: Craig G]
Yo, once again, a brother's back to attract many age groups
Sportin' green and beige boots, popular like the 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 mad 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 Lee's
So next time the wizard gives your soft ass 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

[Pre-Verse Bridge]
Yo, Big Daddy
(Yo, I believe that's me)
A-yo, Big Daddy
(Yo, I believe that's me)
Big Daddy
(Oooh, I guess that's me)
1, 2, 3

[Verse 3: Big Daddy Kane]
Uhh! Here is true and 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 me
And 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 fuck 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 MC's know about my existence
Any MC to last a minute is pure lucky
'Cause I'm the baddest kid that you seen since Chucky

[Pre-Verse Bridge]
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

[Verse 4: Kool G Rap]
Yo! Straight out the motherfuckin' gutter
I open my shutter to butter 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 right outta 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' motherfuckers 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 proper
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 fuck up like a Sicilian
A nigga can't do shit for me!
G Rap and Marley Marl, we're signin' out on The Symphony