Raw (Original Demo Version)- Big Daddy Kane & Kool G Rap

Public Enemy | Louder Than A Bomb (1988)

South Bronx [Explicit]

Business Never Personal

Crossover

Sista | Sweat You Down (1993)

Boys In The Club x Break It Down (Garza Mix)

Big Daddy Kane ~ Smooth Operator (1989)

Little something for my godson Elijah
And a little girl named Karin

Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice
I say the darker the flesh, then the deeper the roots
I give a holla to my sisters on welfare
2Pac cares if don't nobody else care
And I know they like to beat you down a lot
When you come around the block, brothers clown a lot
But please don't cry, dry your eyes, never let up
Forgive, but don't forget, girl, keep ya head up
And when he tells you you ain't nothin', don't believe him
And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him
‘Cause, sister, you don't need him
And I ain't tryin' to gas you up, I just call 'em how I see 'em
You know what makes me unhappy?
When brothers make babies
And leave a young mother to be a pappy
And since we all came from a woman
Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman
I wonder why we take from our women
Why we rape our women — do we hate our women?
I think it's time to kill for our women
Time to heal our women, be real to our women
And if we don't we'll have a race of babies
That will hate the ladies that make the babies
And since a man can't make one
He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one
So will the real men get up?
I know you're fed up, ladies, but keep ya head up

Hook: Dave Hollister
Keep ya head up, ooh, child
Things are gonna get easier
Keep ya head up, ooh, child
Things'll get brighter
Keep ya head up, ooh, child
Things are gonna get easier
Keep ya head up, ooh, child
Things'll get brighter

Ayo, I remember Marvin Gaye used to sing to me
He had me feelin' like black was the thing to be
And suddenly the ghetto didn't seem so tough
And though we had it rough, we always had enough
I huffed and puffed about my curfew and broke the rules
Ran with a local crew and had a smoke or two
And I realize Mama really paid the price
She nearly gave her life to raise me right
And all I had to give her was my pipe dream
Of how I'd rock the mic and make it to the bright screen
I'm tryin' to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
It's hard to be legit and still pay the rent
And in the end it seems I'm headin' for the pen
I try to find my friends, but they're blowin' in the wind
Last night my buddy lost his whole family
It's gonna take the man in me to conquer this insanity
It seems the rain'll never let up
I try to keep my head up and still keep from gettin' wet up
You know, it's funny, when it rains it pours
They got money for wars but can't feed the poor
Say there ain't no hope for the youth
And the truth is it ain't no hope for the future
And then they wonder why we crazy
I blame my mother for turnin' my brother into a crack baby
We ain't meant to survive, ‘cause it's a set-up
And even though you're fed up, huh, you got to keep ya head up

And uh, to all the ladies havin' babies on they own
I know it's kinda rough and you're feelin' all alone
Daddy's long gone and he left you by your lonesome
Thank the Lord for my kids even if nobody else want 'em
‘Cause I think we can make it; in fact, I'm sure
And if you fall, stand tall and come back for more
‘Cause ain't nothin' worse than when your son
Wants to know why his daddy don't love him no mo'
You can't complain you was dealt this
Hell of a hand without a man, feelin' helpless
Because there's too many things for you to deal with
Dyin' inside, but outside you're lookin' fearless
While tears is rollin' down your cheeks
You steady hopin' things don't fall down this week
‘Cause if it did, you couldn't take it
And don't blame me — I was given this world, I didn't make it
And now my son's gettin' older and older
And colder from havin' the world on his shoulders
While the rich kids is drivin' Benz
I'm still tryin' to hold on to survivin' friends
And it's crazy, it seems it'll never let up
But please, you got to keep ya head up

2Pac & Dave Hollister | Keep Ya Head Up (1993) Extended Mix

Rappers stepping to me, they wanna get some
But I'm the Kane, so yo, you know the outcome
Another victory, they can't get with me
So pick a B.C. date cause you are history
I'm the authentic poet to get lyrical
For you to beat me, it's gonna take a miracle
And stepping to me, yo that's the wrong move
So what you on, Hobbs, dope or dog food?
Competition, I just devour
Like a pit bull against a Chihuahua
Cause when it comes to being dope, hot damn
I got it good, now let me tell you who I am
The B-I-G D-A-double-D-Y K-A-N-E
Dramatic, Asiatic, not like many
I'm different, so don't compare me to another
Cause they can't hang, word to the mother
At least not with the principal in this pedigree
So when I roll on you rappers, you better be
Ready to die because you're petty
You're just a butter knife, I'm a machete
That's made by Ginsu, wait until when you
Try to front, so I can chop into
Your body, just because you try to be basing
Friday the 13th, I'ma play Jason
No type of joke, gag, game, puzzle or riddle
The name is Big Daddy, yes, Big—not little
So define it, here's your walking papers, sign it
And take a walk as the Kane start to talk, cause

My rhymes are so dope and the rappers be hoping
To sound like me, so soon I'll have to open
A school of emceeing, for those who want to be in
My field in court, then again on second thought
To have emcees coming out sounding so similar
It's quite confusing for you to remember
The originator, and boy do I hate a
Perpetrator, but I'm much greater
The best, oh yes, I guess suggest the rest should fess
Don't mess or test your highness
Unless you just address with best finesse
And bless the paragraph I manifest
Rap prime minister, some say sinister
Non-stopping the groove, until when it's the
Climax, and I max, relax and chill
Have a break from a take of me acting ill
Brain cells are lit, ideas start to hit
Next the formation of words that fit
At the table I sit, making it legit
And when my pen hits the paper, ah shit
I stop and stand strong over emcees
And devour with the power of Hercules
Or Samson, but I go further the length
Cause you could scalp my Cameo and I'll still have strength
And no, that's not a myth, and if you try to riff
Or get with, the man with the given gift of gab
Your vocab, I'll only ignore
Be sleeping on your rhymes till I start to snore
You can't awake me, or even make me
Fear you, son, cause you can't do me none
So, think about it if you're trying to go
When you want to step to me, I think you should know that

I appear right here and scare and dare
A mere musketeer that would dare to compare
Put him in the rear, back there where he can't see clear
Get a beer, idea or near stare, yeah
So on to be want to be competition
Trying to step to me, must be on a mission
Up on the stage is where I'ma get you at
You think I'm losing? Pfft, picture that

The name is Big Daddy, you know, as in, your father
So when you hear a def rhyme, believe that I'm the author
I grab the mic and make emcees evaporate
The party people say, 'Damn, that rapper's great'
The creator, conductor of poetry
Et cetera, et cetera, it ain't easy being me
I speak clearly so you can understand
Put words together like Letter Man
Now that's dictation, proceeding to my innovation
Not like the other emcees that are an imitation
Or an animation, a cartoon to me
But when I'm finished, I'm sure that you are soon to see
Reality, my secret technique
Because I always speak with mentality
I put my title in your face, dare you to base
And if you try and come get it, yo I'ma show you who's with it
So if you know like I know, instead of messing around
Play like Roy Rogers and slow down
Just give yourself a break, or someone else will take
Your title, namely me, cause I'm homicidal
That means murder, cause I'm about to hurt a-
Nother emcee, that try to get with me
I'll just break him and bake him and rake him
And take him and mold him and make him
Hold up the peace sign, as salaam alaikum!

Big Daddy Kane | Aint No Half Steppin' (1988)

Jungle Brothers | Straight Out the Jungle (1988)

Mary J Blige (Feat. Mr. Cheeks) | I'm Goin Down (1995) Remix

Boys In The Club x Break It Down (Garza Mix)

GARZA

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