Big Daddy Kane - Mortal Combat

Album: It's a Big Daddy Thing (c) 1989, produced by: Big Daddy Kane, label: Cold Chillin' Records. Lyrics: The kiss of death on a rap pick Then you get a slap quick, so guard it with Chapstick In other words, protect and hold your own It only takes one punch to get head flown Fists of fury, suckers get buried Cause the Kane got more spice than curry I am the flavor down on paper And nothing could save ya, from catchin the vapors Rhymes that'll sting your face like a quick jab And I'm rubbin em in just like Vicks say I'm captivatin, dominatin, innovatin, illustratin, fascinatin Motivatin, elevatin, terminatin, mutilatin Rhymes they're worth their weight in gold, bold, never sold to a bidder That claim to glitter, you're so bitter like kitty litter As for damage, don't tell me what another do Cause I quote that I'm RAW So make room, cause fighters are doomed Try to consume, and make your own tune A grave from a casket, a tisket a tasket You're rhymes out of basket, boy you get your ass kicked For frontin like you hittin hard when your arms are too short, to box with God So don't even touch cause I come with too much Address and bless any mic that I clutch And for a rapper to challenge my freestyle He must be senile, and that's why meanwhile back at the ranch... There goes the asiatic chosen one that's expandin with a new branch So many slept on the nonchalant act Now wake up sucker this is mortal combat "you say daddy I don't want none..." (4x) I seize and freeze MC's with ...

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