[Verse 1]
Enquiring minds wanna know, did the champ retire?
So here I am, boomin' like an amplifier
I clear my throat, then I float like a boat
Note for note, what I wrote you can't quote or even tote
Raps are too heavy, sharp like a machete
Pass the microphone, 'cause Kane is all ready
Grippin' to play the part to prove that I'm in command
The biggest Daddy of 'em all, and oh, Kane stands for
King Asiatic, nobody's equal
Or non-equivalent, or natural ebony
Or now effective, or never ever
Pick your definition and put it together
'Cause it still comes out tastin' like chocolate
With a finesse MCs never got with
'Cause none of them want me to touch the mic first
They know that it only takes Kane one verse
So here's the microphone, show me what you can do
And, uh, wake me up when you're through
Just so I can go and flow and throw a blow
To show a pro and let 'em all know
That any MC trying to be this lyrical
Should go ask Smokey Robinson for a miracle
I wouldn't let a rapper go one round
I'm knockin' them down just like Jim Brown
So Mister Cee, let the music play
And here's what I want y'all to say
[Chorus]
Ooh (C'mon), ah (C'mon)
Na-na-na, na-na (C'mon like you should)
Ooh (C'mon), ah (C'mon)
Na-na-na, na-na (Uh)
Ooh (Ooh), ah (Ah)
Na-na-na, na-na (Sing that song)
Ooh (C'mon), ah (C'mon)
Na-na-na, na-na

[Verse 2]
Here's a rap avalanche, MCs travel and
Run-run for shelter, 'cause they don't have a chance
Any MC caught talkin' out of turn
I straighten 'em out just like a perm
Now let's take a second, just to recollect it
Give a little shout to the rappers that's out
Like all the East Coast MCs of today
From Run-DMC on down to Kid 'n Play
The ladies like Salt-N-Pepa to Latifah
Who showed the power of a woman and me a believer
Now backtrack with the musical jewel
And say peace to the old school
And all praises due to the L.A. crew
You put your state on the map and kept bringin' rap through
I can't forget the brothers that's down in Miami
You're still 2 Live if you never get a Grammy
'Cause personally I feel who really needs that stuff
If you ask me, it's just a bunch of makeup
There's a lot of Caucasian kids that don't even know me
'Cause every Billy and Joey is in love with David Bowie
I guess I used the wrong tools in my rhymes
'Cause when I nailed my clock, it didn't say "Hammer Time"
That's not a diss to my Oaktown friend
That's tellin' you how it is in the musical biz
'Cause I make sure that every rapper in the industry
Becomes a friend of me
And Mister Cee, let the music play
And here's what I want y'all to say
[Chorus]
Ooh (Ooh), ah (Ah)
Na-na-na, na-na (Na-na-na)
Ooh (C'mon), ah (C'mon)
Na-na-na, na-na (C'mon, won't ya come on?)
Ooh (Ooh), ah (Ah)
Na-na-na, na-na (Sing that song)
Ooh, ah
Na-na-na, na-na