[Verse One] Brace yourself soloists, duos, trios It's the captain of "Hay dios mio!" In Spanish, or English, I had to bring this And I know that you probably think this is a joke, so laugh, sleep on me snore Feel the wrath of a giant, like never before Returned to the environment to see where the fire went I'm not sixty-five, I'm not retirin A legend in the old school, better today I bust a sucker in a battle, the same old way I did when I used to, I got the juice to Put the best you got against and they'll lose to the Grandest-master, the Pope and the pastor The judge and jury and if you think I am a rasta- -farian or Jamaican, you're mistakin I specialize in rappin, and flakin on sucker MC's, and wannabeez Beat me in a battle? Nigga please!?! Ain't no one better than, the rap veteran And this here is just another feather in my cap, because my rap It sing to the beat, just like a hi-hat You can try your damndest, to understand this Showtime is at two, to see the Grand-est!
[Verse Two] I don't like to boast that I'm better than most But if you try to get beside yourself, I'll roast you and your boy, or any MC toy if you think you think that you can mess with the Real McCoy! You gotta be great, to try to rate with the hall of fame rhymes, that I create And even if you can, they're still a flash in the pan compared to the way I am when the mic's in my hand MC's I'll romp - they ain't no comp! And when they try to get familiar - I stomp their mouth because, I'm what it is and they was And no one does it to you like the captain does
[Verse Three] I DJ'ed in house parties, with BSR's Transportation for my set? Two or three cars Carried amps in the rain, speakers in the snow Spent more than I made when I did a show Played in clubs in the winter, without no heat In dressin rooms, with rats, runnin under my feet The blackout in '77, the city went dark Had my whole sound system jammin in the park Paid my dues, I'm a vet, so don't even try me Been in parties rockin rhymes watchin bullets go by me Sparkle Dixie, Ecstasy, Garage or the Bomb The T-Connection, The Ready, the list goes on Black Door, the P-A-L, the Bronx River Center When you first heard of rap, that's where you went to see vets like me, G-M-C The L-O-R-D, of R-A-P
[Verse Four] Well sometimes it's hard, bein MC God like fightin Sugar Ray, or Matthew Sodd(?) Tradin blow for blow with MC's you know Lookin for the knockout or the T-K-O But I reign supreme over those who dream Cold Crush had the ice and I had the cream Goin down in the books, as the one who looks down on unrighteous rappers and MC crooks The spot's secure, my mind is sure What else would the people jock me for except, maybe the fact, I'm G-M-C or got a harem like a sheik, of Arab be It could be because I'm tall handsome slim and brown or the way the crowd breaks, when I get down or how the ladies gather round when the party's over or maybe because my name is Casanova But whatever the story, whatever the reason The audience I will continue pleasin for the rest of my life, til the day I die cause I'm the Grandmaster Caz, and you know I am right, polite, goody-good in the night And the chances that I'm not are less than slighTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
