Marksmen

[intro - George Benson and Quincy Jones]

(..) is, uh, the skills. - Yes, he has the skills... - the dexterity to play ! - right, which he earned as a musician that went through the streets (hmhm) Wherever you wanna go .. to get his ability to, uh, .. you know, in a nutshell, the .. what I'm talkin' about is that he's a man that said .. [he] didn't ask the question "How do I get over?"; "How do I get better" - an' better - is what he said. And better, and better, and better. And that's the school I came from

[Mecki Mark Men – Love Feeling sample]

[Verse 1: Ka]

To our production, much destruction for our appetite

With steel fist, if meal missed wasn't for lack of might

We been bingin, we purgin dividends with snub nose

My bud's rose, my service citizens

Cain and Abel, my rappin' plight, wrote on same table they packaged white

Ain't wrapped this tight if catching stripe and ain't actin trife

Vowed to Lord, crowds'll applaud if ain't clap at night

Drew Tecs, when others was two sexed, hermaphrodite

Tho a bowl full of rodents, you notice no rat in sight

Tried to go hard at school, stayed for the best classes

Just wasn't the sharpest tool, paid for my trespasses

A modest student got saluted when I met masters

Thinking of fear, blinking here, you feel death's lashes

A man with standard flaws, show 'em what the damage caused

No Christmas wishlists, all I got was Santa's claws

When I lost members my friends would say my fam' is yours

Ka move fly jewels though I may never land rewards

You either cookin or jukin', that's how a crook fathom

Cousin said the judge judged, soon as he looked at him

While he plead, could hardly read - still threw the book at him

A true verse, but too terse - I hope the hook grab 'em

Yeah, I hope the hook grab 'em

[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]

Yeah, played the oven while youngins played the dozens

My stick came with a drum but I don't play percussion

Not to toot my own trumpet, let the Kal-Tec off in couplets

They thought I was on some Quest Love shit

If I pull a few strings, they'd have to bulletproof their Range

Every note that they play, I arranged

I'm like Barry White, never carry light

Me and the gauge we like soulmates but I'm not the marrying type

Bring your best hand weapons, let's have a jam session

Just for the metal hands, you left a couple band members (man down)

Push keys no piano lessons (nah)

Ambidextrous, two hammers do duets and Willie Manchesters

You hit the notes flat, my whistle blow and make the crystal crack

My gat Minnie Ripperton - chew crippled cats

Twist you back, they gon' have to give you a tissue graft

I guess that's what happens when cymbals clash