Aha , y'nahmean?
Word up, just wanna bring em to it real
Real rugged like, uhh, man
Make me feel like I'm method out and all that, y'nahmean?
Go diggin, uhh check it
I bring the butter, huh
Make you wanna creep up on one another, huh
I'm mad sharp like a box cutter, huh
I got the fam rollin like brothers, huh
We in the mecca, Moey, rollie glistenin
Rainin on niggas so bad they think it's drizzlin
Ground zero funk Trackit's mega
Doin wild damage to your arm, legga legga
Who's that? The bawla, the player, the mister with the techniques
pumpin blends, creepin up the backstreets
Throw your rocks up high and let em gleam
It's the Uncle what? Uncle L makes a wild scene
And I be blowin all the rookies out the frame
and they be knowin Uncle's flowin in the game
Queens to uptown I'm gettin down for my crown
When you see me comin thru just gimme a pound
And say....
Yeah
I'm bout to wet it up, get it up
Take a track, drape it in jewels and set it up
I'm so nasty with mines, I warm it up like raw liquor
Dime pieces throw it at me like a free picker
I'm open, I let the funk soak in
I taste like an eighth, ya freeze and start chokin
Yeah son I'm all up in ya mix
Ya callin in your clique, I'm bawlin wit'cha trick
Golden rocks fallin off my neck and wrists
When I breeze by, you be groovin in the midst
of my cycle, every move I make is vital
Crucial, official, brothers sayin "L we miss you"
Much love to all the shooby doobies and cliques
While you're bawlin in the coupe you know I had to get the six
Get your swerve on boo, chill wit me
Get me, I want the CREAM, baby hit me
Now take it to the bridge
Bridge:
(Keep it comin baby)
(Keep it comin baby)
(Keep it comin baby)
(Keep it comin baby) Keep on
*repeat x3*
Somebody tell me the way I keep comin up
Funk runnin up and mad spots is blowin up
It gets hot when I manifest melodies
Beatin niggas all in their heads, so what you tellin me?
Get your drink on, throw you mink on
Let your head nod, stick it out, that's what I'm talkin bout
I got ya deep deep down inside my mixture
Swervin curbs, servin as I fixed ya
Formulated and combinated, the people congregated
You frontin for nothin, your crew is overrated
And I'ma take it on down to the AM
Keep the drama flowin til the party cave in
Uhh, I get you open, baby come and get a fix
Yo, that's word to mother I be droppin mad shit
Let's organise, bounce together for real son
Trick a little though, sip a little Moe, peace one
Outro:
(Keep it comin baby) Keep it goin baby
(Keep it comin baby) Keep it goin baby
(Keep it comin baby) Keep it goin baby
(Keep it comin baby) Keep on
*repeat x4*
Word up! Y'knowhutI'msayin?
I gotta globe in the world in the mail today
NahI'msayin? Heh, word up!
Uhh, kid told me "Yo, the world is yours kid, put it in ya pocket"
Nahmean?
Make a brother feel good, word up!
Brother feel energised
I wanna dedicate this one to the game that put me on the map
Y'nahI'msayin?
I know you love it, the game is so irresistable to touch
You should see me when fienin for microphones that I can clutch
Droppin bombs, combinin the club attracts
like the Ol' Sugarhill Gang, King Tim and Fatback
There's no question the suggestion was made
The foundation was laid when the Furious played
Grandmaster Flash slayed the competition that was wishin
they could serve the technician with the number one position
Uhh, the real deal, Fearless Four scored
Bambataa was hotter, Spoony was givin em nutta
An' I was all up in my headzone, melody and all
Cosign and The Movement sayin "Yes, yes y'all"
It's just the love affair that never ended
I recommended that I take microphones and blow em up, ain't that splendid
This one goes out to all the hip-hop do-or-diers
A song is dedicated to the music I admire
Chorus:
Whenever and ever
We want you, I need you (I need hip-hop)
Whenever and ever
We want you, do you feel the same way too? (I need hip-hop)
Kane's era was terror, he warmed it up
Parrish and Erick cat lyrics that'll make ya turn it up
And I was in the cut, chillin in my drop-top Benz
with friends, loungin with my mens, laughin 'bout all the ends
that I spends, making snaps, pumping Kool G Rap and Biz
Dapper Don, Dookie wrotes I'm about to show what time it is
At the rooftop, I was with Doug E.Fresh and Slick Rick
'La Di Da Di, Who likes to party?' was the fat shit
I mean I saw this hip-hop thing on every level
Chuck D, PE, yes the rhythm and the rebel
I can reminisce the black fist, Uzi, Terminators
Terror doom techniques that terrorise the lighter shade
It's all about the game that we play everyday
Eric B & Rakim flow to such a diff'rent way
I'm lovin hip-hop cos it help brothers escape
Let's celebrate our music people before it's too late
Chorus
Survival Of The Fittest-Mobb Deep, and Lost Boyz
Lickin shots got the game hot
They even flipped on 2PAC
Snoop Doggy Dogg put the West Coast in gear
Dr Dre, NWA, Eazy E's in here
I wanna tell the world they just don't understand
My man Nas Escobar, Wu-Tang Clan
Keith Murray to the Redman, down south Da Brat
My people are you with me where you at?...ya peep that?
I'm on a mission to rejuvenate the funk
Bring the game back and give the do-or-diers what they want
When you hear Craig Mack, Notorious B.I.G.
Latifah, Heavy D, you should reminisce of me
Some say it's Naughty By Nature-'hip-hop in all its glory'
A fleet of battleships floatin in diff'rent categories
My love affair with hip-hop'll never fade away
Sincerely yours, LL Cool J
Chorus to fade
Outro: (over chorus)
Yeah, ain't no doubt about it kid, knowI'msayin?
Hip-hop's the game, helped a lot of brothers escape
Take it to another level, knowI'msayin?
It's our music, we own this music, knowhutI'msayin?
Word life! I wanna give a couple of shoutouts here, knowhutI'msayin?
First of all, I wanna thank my man Baby Chris, y'nahmean?
Helped me put this Mr. Smith...Mr.Smith album together
make it hot, knowI'msayin?
Thank the Trackmasters-*?Pope Tone?*, Steve Stout
we definitely turning this joint out, y'nahmean
Word bond! Hip-hop for life, kid!
Yeah!
I've been watchin' you from afar,
for as long as I can remmeber
You are all a real man can need
and ever ask for
this is love
this is more than a crush
It was all ....(up at Rutgers)
I saw with your man
smiling, huh, a coach bag in your hand
I was laying in the coup with my hat turned back
we caught eyes for a moment, and that was that
so skated off, as you strolled off
looking at them legs, god damn they looked so soft (so fine)
I gotta take ya from your man that's my mision
If his love is real he got ta handle competition
you only knew about 5 months (that's right)
besides he drinks too much and smokes too many blunts
and I've been working out everyday thinking bout you
looking at my own eyes in the rear view
cathchin flash backs of our eye contact
wish i could lay ya on your stomach and caress your back
i would hold ya in my arms and ease your fears
I can't believe it, I hadn't had a crush in years
Chorus
(2x)hey lover, hey lover, this is more than a crush
Lover, hey lover, this is more than a crush
hey lover, hey lover, this is more than a crush
I see you at the bus stop waitin everyday
your man must think its safe for you to travel that way
but i don't want ta violate your relationship
so i lay back in the cut with a crush that'a trip
still he can't stop me from having day dreams
tounging you down with huh vanilla ice cream
kissing on your thighs in the moonlight
searching your body with my tounge girl all night
I wonder one day could it be, simple dreams turnin into reality
Our love would come down so naturally
we would walk down the isle of destiny
what your man got his hustle on gotcha type scared
break ya off a little chump change to do your hair
that seems to be enough to satisfy your needs
but there's a deeper level if you just follow my lead
Hey lover
CHORUS
Last week I saw ya at the mall
standing at the pay phone bout to make a call
I had a vision it was me on the other end
telling you come by and then you walked in
I touched you gently with my hands
we talked about traveling the distant lands
escaping all the madness out here in the world
becomin my wife no longer my girl
then, you let your dress fall down to the floor
i kissed you softly and you yearned for more
we experienced pleasure unparallel
into an ocean of love we both fell
swimming in the timeless, currents of pure bliss
fantasies interchanging with each kiss
undying passion unities our souls
togehter we swim until the point of no control
but its a fantasy it(that,you) won't come true
we never even spoke and your man (still) love you
so I'm gonna keep all these feelins inside
keep my dreams alive until the right time
Mmmm yeah (mmmmm) check it out baby
Make it hot... then we drop it
(oooooooh!) Uh, yeah
(oooooooh!) Uptown, you know how we do it
Yeah you know
Make it hot
Verse One:
[LL Cool J]
It's the first time together and I'm feeling kinda horny
Conventional methods of makin love kinda bore me
I wanna knock your block off, get my rocks off
Blow your socks off make sure your G spots soft
[LeShaun]
I'm gonna call you Big Daddy and scream your name
Matter fact I can't wait for your candy rain
[LL Cool J]
So what cha sayin, I get my swerve on, bring it live
Make it last forever, damn the kitty cat's tight
[LeShaun]
Mmm... daddy slow down your flow
Put it on me like G baby nice and slow
I need a rough neck nigga Mandingo in a sec
Who ain't afraid to pull my hair and spank me from the back
[LL Cool J]
No doubt, I'm the playa that you're talkin about
[LeShaun]
But do you really think that you can work it out
[LL Cool J]
I guarantee shorty it's real, baby stick it out
Here comes the man of steel
Chorus: LeShaun, LL Cool J
[LeShaun] Doin it and doin it and doin it well (3X)
[LL Cool J] I respresent Queens, she was raised out in Brooklyn
{repeat 2x}
Verse Two:
[LL Cool J]
I'm in the mix now, searching for the right spot
To hit now, get down
[LeShaun]
Damn my lover dig down, you use a rubber?
[LL Cool J]
Damn right
[LeShaun]
You are my lover
[LL Cool J]
All night
[LeShaun]
The putty good to you? Word to momma
[LL Cool J]
Man tight
The only thing left to do is climax
Let's make it last
[LeShaun]
Word we ain't goin out like that
All this time you've been telling that you was a Don
[LL Cool J]
I tried to warn you girl you wouldn't listen
Now let's get it on
[LeShaun]
Mmm, baby wild, don't do that
Chill wait a minute baby let me please you back
[LL Cool J]
You talk a good one shorty now you're makin me sweat
How a live nigga like it girl?
[LeShaun]
Nice and wet
We get it To The Break of Dawn, damn you're large
How a big girl like it Daddy?
[LL Cool J]
Nice and hard
Safe sexin it, flexin it, gettin that affectionate
Chewin it, oohin it, all while we're doin it
Chorus (repeat 2X)
Verse Three:
[LL Cool J]
Baby, I wanna hit it in the worst way
[LeShaun]
Make it hot
[LL Cool J]
Schemin on the ass since the first day
[LeShaun]
Don't stop
Damn I love it when you talk like that
Make it bounce sugar
[LL Cool J]
Long as you can bounce me back
More flesh than the Greek Fest
[LeShaun]
Roll up the sess
[LL Cool J]
Pass the Hennessee
[LeShaun]
Put my body to the test
Wait wait daddy many niggaz ago
I was a young girl listening to how you flow
Now's my chance to hit you off daddy I'm grown
From the back, from the side
[LL Cool J]
Right, I'm in the zone
One of a kind when it's time to do mine
Camcorder and the whole shit
[LeShaun]
Press rewind
Let it flow on the screen while we puffs the L
Layin back in the cut while we're under the spell
[LL Cool J]
Word life, I like the way the ep went down
Go to sleep, tomorrow I'll take you back downtown
We'll be
Aaah, get the burner, uhh, the burner, let loose the cannon
Blood drippin, slippin off my planet
Man, the panic, funkmode
Mechanical mix flows competition in my dojo
Swing a hook, got the vertabrae, be brave
Heat gain meltin on my heatwave
Power to the crowd, pandemonium
Showin em how I gets down
Chorus:
The life of a killer is scandalous
The life of a killer is dangerous
*repeat*
Triggedy, sky high like a kite
God diggity, every other cloud's blue
Puff on a, yeah, puff on a
Bring it on, off, on, baby one-two
Peep in the arena, death at your doorstep
Right around the corner is the land of regret
When ya sweat to get down, sweat to get off and on
till the... nothin normal bout my songs
Chorus x2
LL Cool, J jazzy jewel
Takin dime pieces to the real school
I got em on nations buckin like fools
Pitbulls fightin over streets I rule
Catch it if you can when it's hot ta hit'cha hand
Throw ya skunks in the air, my funk got the flair, man
I can do division, baby I can do math
Multiplying fractions now ya know the half
Knuckle games played, must pack steel
Oh yes I'm livin like real
to the highest extent, bloody clothes doin battle
til the death of my foes, it's my show
Blaze this one, word up!
I'ma blaze this one
No doubt! Uhh, check it, check it, check it!!!
Uhh, uhh, check it, check it, check it!!!
I'm Uncle L, check it, check it, check it!!!
The Trackmasters, check it, check it, check it!!!
Now everybody now, check it, check it, check it!!!
All my niggas now, check it, check it, check it!!!
Yeah, we 'bout to serve this one off nice, y'nahmean?
Word up, check it!
I shot ya!
I'm splittin brothers open like a doctor
Ya fell asleep, the vampire teeth got'cha
I drop ya down in boilin acid
Ya melt like plastic, elastic, is drastic
Violations, room vibrations, son
cock the hammer let the Uncle give em one
Done take a flick of a wicked lunatic
puttin hits on your clique, got'cha wife in turnin tricks
What? You don't wanna, I thought that you was bawlin
Now watch cos I cock ya love, ya girlies fallin
Uh, what's my function? Lyrical injection
Blazin niggas, hittin em raw with no protection
I take advantage
Ya fear me, I'm doin damage
Ya hear me
the whole scenario is dreary
MC's is gettin wet up in the game
I meet you up in Memphis, just call my name
I shot ya!
Chorus:
Ya wanna (uhh)
Ya wanna (uhh)
Ya wanna hit, give me a hour (uhh)
plus a pen and a pad (uhh, check it, check it, check it!!!)
I shot ya!
*repeat*
I shot ya! (uhh)
I got ya strap to the stagin
Trapped in a cagin, toe kissin a Cajun
Ya mob's locked down underneath the surface
Ya gettin nervous for talkin shit with no purpose
Laced up, mind charmer, mad drama
What goes around comes around, not around farmers
Silence, shhhh, very deadly
Come and battle, let me add you to my medley
Possessin power, takin everything I can grasp
Go get it now, why you always dwellin on the past?
Baby boys reminiscin old school shit
Young fools get dicked, LL rules the shit
with a platinum fist, the relentless abyss
I take you to a land where piranhas like to kiss
Massacre, mmuh, blowin up the tour bus passengers
Chuckin the colour outta cartoon character
Ya get serious
Real niggas recognise what my theory is
I shot ya!
Chorus
Bridge:
I shot ya!
Word up, I'ma lace this shit crazy, y'nahmean?
Word up, we're gonna blow the spot up, kid
No doubt about it
Yeah, yeah, I ain't thru, I ain't thru, I ain't thru
Uh-uh-uh-oh, lookin kinda leary
Ya clique thought I fell off, they didn't wanna hear me
Oh really, now teel me how long have you been whinin?
Sixteen years, twenty million albums, yeah you're climbin
I love your joint Rock The Bells, it was mad hot
Ya record 'bout the Radio was blowin up my spot
My girl was on your chip when you flipped I Need Love
Your backseat countset was mad butter, son
I loved your boomin system it was wicked as could be
You bad, now I'm writin on your pink cookies
And you had me screamin Mama Said Knock Ya Out
Ya jinglin, baby, no doubt
Uh, talk to me (what, what, uhh, uhh) become a zombie, walk to me
Ain't a MC alive who fought with me
Y'nahmean? Man, rock it
Easy does it
I gotta pluck it like buzzards
I shot ya!
Chorus (x3)
Outro: (over chorus)
What, what, what, what, what
Uh, what?
Y'nahmean? This is how we gettin down for crizzown
No diggity, y'knowI'msayin?
Trackmasters lace me, y'knowI'msayin?
And I take care of mines, y'knowImean?
That's it son!
Peace!
Uh Mr. Smith, Mr Smith, Mr Smith
Uh Mr Smith, it's the bomb y'knowhutI'msayin? Mr Smith
Mr Smith, word up kid, yeah Mr Smith, check it out
Verse 1:
I'm goin to the top leavin smoke in my trail
Bitch ass gangstas put that ass on sale
And even if I'm twice as expensive as the rest
when I go for dolo you ain't checkin for nuttin less
My strategy is splittin brain cavity's
It's ya majesty bringin you a tragedy
Yeah, on the butcher block slice her like a ox
When it's time to get down, nigga I jam like a Glock
I bust thru all types of red tape and sue papes
Niggas come old but they always wanna infiltrate
I'm cuttin snakes thru the belly witta icepick
and scoopin hotties, a strong aisle of flip trips
It's the rebirth of murkin niggas once again
I drain with ink and put your blood in my pen
I'm breakin ribs til somethin gives
A nigga got to live and Mr Smith is power god, kid
Chorus:
Mr Smith you got the shit sewed up
Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up
*repeat x3*
Verse 2:
What? You wanna do what? You lack the vitality
originality, so face reality
I'm on some ole wild shit, ya niggas can't get wit
Matter of fact, mornin yawn and suck a dick
Nah hold up, the fuck is goin on?
All these cartoon character MC's gettin airborne
Takin off like a hot air balloon
Goin up up up, oh no kaboom
Bring your heroes down to ground zero
Shotty grippin ya grill like Pesci and DeNiro
I'm on some [BLANK] shit, throats is gettin shit
Scoopedin New Jacks and kick em in the *?fire bit?*
Tell them ole Jap niggas they need to go and stick it
cos when it comes to this rap shit I'm mad wicked
The grand sire bringin flavour to the whole game
Mr Smith is my motherfuckin name
Chorus
To the bridge
Bridge:
Mr Smith (I was a mack since birth)
Talkin bout Mr Smith (I invented the taadow!) Uh
Talkin bout Mr Smith
Talkin bout Mr Smith
Talkin bout
Verse 3:
Time's up, your rhyme's up, mix the lines up
I'm about to blow the spot up with that divine touch
I got the magnetic energetic lyrical calasthetic
Ya better call a medic cos ya look pathetic
Guan boy it's the champion Mr Smith
Your niggas couldn't raise up with a forklift
Cocked the hammer, peep out the grammar
It's hard like Bacardi and hot like a house party
All your so-called flavour niggas is deaded
Your next step is where ya headed so don't forget it
Your rhymes is beat, your steelo's scarred to scrape
When you scream you sound muddy like a bled teeth
I get'cha open like f-lay, 'tack you when I spray
Lethal compositions around your way
I'm the maniacal murderous Mr James Smith
Rippin ya ass out the frame with my verbal gift
Y'all wanna put it on tape and do all the real [BACKWARDS]?
Ya just wanna go straight to dat? Aight
You don't wanna mix it or nuttin? Aight let's do it
You want me to do the hook part too?
Check it out uhh, check it out uhh
Yeah it's that Uncle L [BACKWARDS], you know, word up
Ain't no doubt about this, I'm settin this [BACKWARDS] right in here
Yeah yeah yeah, I'm gonna sex this up, yeah go like this here
Check it out
Verse 1:
I'm beatin [BACKWARDS] against the [BACKWARDS] up out their boots
Flame throwin their troops, they can't recoup from drinkin acid soup
Spectacular, benacular, miraculous raw [BACKWARDS]
Scooped off the concrete to make a hit
Tearin [BACKWARDS] out the hinges, competition cringes
in the trenches, killin for mere inches
Word to mama, I tongue kiss a piranha
Electricute a barricuda for tryin to bring the drama
I get more ass than a toilet seat
So put your ballerina shoes on and tiptoe down my [BACKWARDS]
Your mother[BACKWARDS] deathwish will be soloist
R-double O-K-I-E you ain't stylish
It's mother[BACKWARDS] arson from here to Parsons
You're [BACKWARDS] dawson, it's murder, when I step in the door run
for your mother[BACKWARDS] life, get ghost
or taste the toast and get your [BACKWARDS] hung on a goalpost
Startin at'cha neck to check ya for respect
Ya back get snapped, your lower spine gets wet
Hips get ripped and then your thighs start to slide
I'm up thru [BACKWARDS]hole and [BACKWARDS] up your inside
Hook:
And don't be gettin no airplay
A jam that'cha love, a jam that'cha love
It's a jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay
A jam that'cha love, a jam that'cha love
Verse 2:
Yeah, the rugged ass style I possess
They got the [BACKWARDS] goin from Bel Air to baggin up sess
[BACKWARDS]! Mother[BACKWARDS] right [BACKWARDS] in his corn
You shoulda never put me on this mic, you was warned
I got [BACKWARDS] chasin behind my path for garbage bags
hopin to bring in to throw old rhyme to one of da fags
Huh, I'm on my mother[BACKWARDS] game like dat
I put it in your chest and make your heart go flat
All the mother[BACKWARDS] tracks in the world can't save ya
when I drop these chains on ya brain and enslave ya
Once you was on a pedestal now ya gettin ridiculed
[BACKWARDS] is critical, we're fightin at the pinnacle
I'm burnin [BACKWARDS] like a cracker do a cross
Ain't no three-in-a-row tic tac toe, this is a real flow boss
Makin [BACKWARDS] understand my language
then they rap and vanish and camouflage the damage
Interlude:
To whom it may concern, youknowhutI'msayin?
We're gonna do this right here, word is bond, huh huh
Cos it's a jam that you love that don't be gettin no airplay
(A jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay)
I wanna do that one right yo
Verse 3:
To whom it may concern on this mother[BACKWARDS] test
I got the zest to clip ya thru ya vest
Little shortys with big 40's talkin loud, actin proud
BLAOW! Now ya chokin off a black cloud
Rollin El's til your brain swells
Inhale deep sleep and dust me off them old ass Rock The Bells
You mother[BACKWARDS], you fruitcakes, you fakin jacks
You [BACKWARDS] don't want it, I'm burnin up the wax
I'm a trailblazin, gun totin, renegade
black ass New York [BACKWARDS] choppin like a blade
Bullshinanigans, country ass mannequins
Mother[BACKWARDS] frontin and I bet you ain't no slam again
Yeah what? I siad it and [BACKWARDS] sweat it
What? You catch a heat-seekin missile in ya gut
Outro:
Ha ha, word is bond yo
It's a jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay
Yeah, ha ha, word is bond
Y'knowhutI'msayin? I'm catchin mother[BACKWARDS] wreck in here,
knowI'msayin?
[BACKWARDS] to all them rookies, [BACKWARDS] word up ha ha
Yo I got the laugh, word, knowI'msayin?
And sometimes [BACKWARDS] skill boys, you just gotta laugh at
mother[BACKWARDS]
Ha ha, yeah uhh
A jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay
A jam that'cha love, a jam that'cha love
Yeah, I wanna shout it out to my mother[BACKWARDS] [BACKWARDS] around
Farmers
My [BACKWARDS] Zeus, knowI'msayin? My mother [BACKWARDS] minnan right
diddere
Spit at the tissturn t-t-t-tables all L willing a-a-a-able,
youknowI'msayin?
Get mad busy in this [BACKWARDS], y'knowI'msayin?
My [BACKWARDS] don't give a [BACKWARDS], word up
Set that [BACKWARDS] off right, uhh
keep it chickenhead,im lookin for a dime
get my swirve on,make it hot,word is bond, im lickin on your ankle
bracelet,we'll be sippin' moet wit strawberries and dat shit, im nasty ask me
why i lick my lips so in the darkness i can run my tongue over your tits
its all good sugary,u aint leavin' sit up on my face and help my stash grow
even
whipped cream taste mean from the back she bounce wit' LL now shorty's on the
map
i put away the gat,took off the hat,throw ya mo's in the air if u like it like
that
no doubt boo,i keep it real girl,mad pleasure,blowin up your whole world
whatever's clever i got endless cash,trees from Hawaii, 2 pools or baths
(chorus) i'll be loungin with LL Cool J
i'll be loungin' with LL,hey hey
uh,my scenario is grand,a dime peice,hennessey up in my hand
i turn out the lights like teddy,im feenin', standin' in the darkness,now im
ready
uhh,ooh yeah up in ya,let it flow while i pump slow,then i speed it up,heat it
up
make it mo' tasty,so u can swing low and lace me
use your imagination,u do me,i do u,sex education
its all good, it's cranberry absolut,peach shnapps,feelin' tipsy,loungin' on
the rooftops
i'm 'bout to spank u on dat ass(ooh) i know u love it when it lasts(true) when
u need it who u ask(you) what u sayin' when i dash(dont go boo)
(chorus)
u got to bounce wit me suga,word up,u got to bounce wit me suga,worda
worda,word up...
warm it up suga,make it hot,shorties'll swarm,make me wanna bust shots,we
speak daily on the regular,run your jibs all day chip in my cellular
shoot down to jamaica,pretty white sand,suntan oil,pina' coladas in my hand
layin up at night,peepin' at stars,remember,when we was at the club in da
bars?
i told ya my status was that of a don,u thought i was a dog and u aint wanna
get it on,but my mind has attractin' qualities,all the emotions of a young
lady
so here u are,smack dab up in the mix,shorty this here's about as good as it
gets
word up,i'ma treat u like a queen from the heart,crack the bubbly,and let the
episode start.
Yeah, you know
it be buggin' me out, you know what I'm sayin'
that rap, how everybody like is using metaphors and all that
it seems like everybody's some kind of metaphor freak
some kind of metaphorical freak or somethin' man,
you know what I'm sayin', word up
So, You know what I'm sayin,
you know brother's wanna make a movie and all that
you know how I mean, so I figured you know what I'm sayin'
I'd just make a little movie, with a chickenball
Check it
If you saw the movie Wall Street I guess you know
The way ya stack chips and regulate wild dough
But ain't no G-funk and far from my era
Tales from the hood your boyz will feel terror
MC's contaminatin' tracks with feces
You think of pussy until a flick like Species
Hi tech ya my pen got velocity
Jumpin' out the SSL like Virtuosity
And never question what I'm doin' to ya girl
She let me dive deep like her panties is Waterworld
But all metaphors the only thing in rap
You brothers need to stop with that
I'm goin' from
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Check it,
I'm makin' Speed like I'm Keanu Reeves
But too many True Lies can make a honey please
She said, I know you want this
Get a Pocahontas
I got Higher Learnin'
And bangin' gets monotonous
Her ass is classic
Cheeks was Jurrasic
Servin' a Justice
Poetic the way I last it
I touch ground real windy with my lyrics
Make her talk in tongues and feel the Holy Spirit
Hear it, pulling light strings
Got mad cast a swing
When I do my thing my ballz is hairy like the Lion King
I'm in the jungle layin' down my mack
You brothers need to chill with that
I'm goin' from
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Take me away
You think I won't fool
Take me away
You think I can't fool
Take me away
You think I won't fool
Take me away
You think I can't fool
It's kinda like miniture satellites floatin' in closets
Spyin' in pockets
Jumpin' out of a helicopter into a football stadium filled with cotton candy
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Word up,
So your man got a good job lovin' ya so much
Boss on his back comin' home like 'What the fuck?'
But you be on his side through the thick and all the thin
That's when LL come in
Blast a ass like Apollo 13
Sugar get the cream
Hoppin dom in every direction
What a scene
He can't understand, your best friend's plan
Running game while you chill with the Demolition Man
Good love, have fun, tight hugs, and flowers
I have your girl runnin' off to fake baby showers
Better get down before ya cryin' at home
I got her standing on the bed gettin' closer to the Drop Zone
Some brother's won't appreciate that
Ain't it scary when you meet a real mack
Let's run it back
See the flavors in my lifestyle, chill don't even lie to me
Balls a lethal weapon, dick a menace to society
You ain't a player hater kid you took her off restriction
I make her tell lies and knock the pulp out of fiction
Kid you know I'm game tight, when you hit it tonight
I hope she screams my name right
This word is born kid, you know why?
I'm goin' from
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Hollis to Hollywood, but is he good
Uh
Definitely gonna be butter, nahmean?
It's gone be butter, nahmean?
Uh, swerve on em, uh yeah
Crack the Mo, here we go
I'm in the mood to let the chickenheads flow
Son, no doubt, god it's real
Every member of my clique is equipped with steel
Suga, let's (HEESHA!), uhh, god bless
Verse 1:
Just the type of man that can lace the crowd
Which ya hands on ya [BLANK] or you could raise them proud
I bust shots off
Put my hands on my shorty and I make it hot-ter
I got a lock ya, flavour to bring
Got the championships so I'ma savour the ring
Church boy, raised by my grandmomma
Home-bred, I dead all the drama
I'm like the mystical funk technician
It's a sign of the times, guards on a mission
Chorus:
God bless ya lover, god bless you (x4)
Verse 2:
Have mercy!
Nowadays I got them other niggas acting thirsty
Bless the sky, energy created by my third child
Swerve wit it, get it get it
Feels good to bust shots at the critics
You crave more taste of my funk
When my Trackdrop ain't enough space in ya trunk
Soul for real, but not the group
I'm solo goin for dolo in the drop Coupe
I distribute melodies while ya gold trees
Step a dip like a flip, '96 kis
Chorus x 2
Matter fact take it to the bridge
Bridge:
God bless
God bless ya lover
*repeat*
Verse 3:
Honey dippin off my Nautica sleeves
With them Gortex boots, that compliment all the cheese
Shouldn't hate me cos I'm raw
(I thought you fell off kid!) You said that shit before
But you see miracles when you're lyrical
Off some LL shit, chickens get hysterical
Cos I..... form like Voltron
Let's get it on and take ya chime bomb (*explosion*)
Knock it off
I like your style but it's a slight bit soft
Son, the LL rule, huh
I pick it up and lay it down mad cool
It'll cost you a fortune (What?)
For me to make it hot, heat it up and keep it scorchin
Chorus to fade
Outro: (*over chorus*)
It's all built for '96 kid!
No diggity, *?Rehaud?* lace me
Nahmean? Lil Chris in the house
Ol Moms, Big E and the fam
Yo son, who's next?
I break a nigga down ugly like Coke, up on the scale
Next step throw a stack up on the third rail
The undisputed, I'm never ever diluted or polluted
You could fuse it, if ya choose it cos it's deep rooted
I make ya maggot ass crawl out tha gutter
For underestimatin as I'm cre-atin the butter
Cliques get clipped like heavy bricks when I'm droppin
I'm wreckin nigga whole shit plus I make a profit
Wicked with this shout, bodies are fished out
I'm wreckin niggas one-by-one but then I miscount
Mispronounced, how do LL bounce
And get ya shit bust? I turn ya faggots into mush
Ya slippin, I'm grippin microphones real tight
Then I crack up the speakers in ya Ac all night
Deliver messages, the prophecy's in me
His Royal Highness, you minus what you claim to be
(Say what?)
Chorus:
Uh, I get da drop on you niggas
I blow it, I make it hot for my niggas
*repeat x 3*
I blow em, KABOOM, but fuck sound effects
Niggas was sleeping like I was off on a Star Trek
Select my dialect, inspect all my cheques
He claim he gettin money but L cast the cheque
You sell blunt weed, Glock block, horizons
Niggas in the projects find ya hypnotising
You clowns know when I bring forth the heat
Hardcore niggas be wearin panties, lookin sweet
I'm on a journey thru the land of frontin niggas
Nervous motherfuckers with tha hands on dirty triggers
I lay back, niggas beef or let my nuts live
I take my blade, insert it until ya guts give
Execution, the destroyer of ya suspect bunch
What? Drama! You can't believe how I deliver bomb shit
Ya brains split, the pain hits ya little dick
Chorus
You fallin backwards, leanin like a dope addict
Rope niggas claim me, packin automatics
Found his ol' Earth's burner underneath the mattress
Go outside, the bitch up just like a actress
I take ya motherfuckers one-by-one and show ya how it's done
And dick ya down in front of everyone
Bitch niggas ain't got no type of reason
To say a bullshit rhyme in LL season
I'm freezin, ya bleedin heavily up out'cha rectum
Black and blue, tryin ta hide up in the spectrum
I got ya raw ass bustin straight flat
Head up on the place mat, ready to waste that
Operatin incorparates stimulatin designs
Lay that motherfucker's shit down, nigga resign
Don't lose ya mind, concentratin on how I shine
You never hear a nigga like me, never in time
I blaze it quick, amaze cliques when I flip
I can't believe you niggas forgot who rip shit
It's '96 and niggas like to hold they dicks
I'm breakin shit aside ya doctor's can't fix
Chorus
Fuck the tricks and all them smooth singin grooves
I'm bringin crews, in my ring you swing and lose
With the blues light my fuse, allow me
To show ya crab ass fake niggas how it be
My technique's superb when I'm pissin on these herbs
Crystal clear so you can hear every word
Fuck the goodie-goodie or your moms might hear it
I gotta keep my title locked down so niggas fear it
Uh, I get da drop on you niggas
I blow it, I make it hot for my niggas
*repeat x 2*
Uh, I get da drop on you niggas
I blow it, I make it hot!
Haaah! (wooooooo!)
Yeah, (hah, hah, hah, hah) L.O.D.
Keith Murray, Def Squad
Mista, Mista, Mista, Mista Smith
You wanna hit? (You wanna hit?)
Uhh, gimme an hour plus a pen and a pad
Yo... I'm here to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
And let my balls hang like I'm on a toilet takin a shit
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips wit the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit
I represent intellectual violence
And leave your click holier than the Ten Commandments
Like Redman I shift with tha ruck
If ya if was a spliff we'd be all fucked up [Word up!]
No need to ask you who is he, Son I get busy
Scuff my Timbs on the boulevard of many ruff cities [Chicago, LA, any of them]
I'll have to Norman Bate ya I love ta hate ya
Cause youse a freak by nature
Can't wait to face ya, mutilate ya
Drink your style down straight wit no chaser [Word up!]
My verbal combat's like a mini-Mac to your back
As soon as one of you niggaz try to over react [BLAOW!]
Tha L.O.D. love good confrontation or vamp [Word up!]
Break your concentration, murder your camp
For tha jealous, overzealous, we fellaz
Blow the the spot like Branford Marsalis
Niggaz comin through and actin wild
Y'all commercial niggaz better have a Coke and a smile
I SHOT YA!
Verse Two: Prodigy
Yo, I conversate wit many men, it's time to begin again
Forgot what I already knew, aiyyo you hear me friend?
Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body
Secret society, tryin to keep they eye on me
But I'm stay incogni', in places they can't find me
Make my moves strategically, the G.O.D.
It's sorta similar but iller than a chess player
I use my thinker, it coincides with my blinker
While you wondered what we sayin on the records real
Yeah you motherfuckin right kid you know the deal
My Mobb is Infamous just like the fuckin title read
You get back slapped so hard make ya nose bleed
Some ---- kids feeling guilty bout the ----
But you first baby girl so just face it (awright)
But anyway, back on the real side of things
My niggaz sling cracks and wear fat diamond rings
Not only is it inside the songs that we sing (kid)
Everything is real not just a song that we sing (word up, it's real)
From my life to the paper (what), very accurately
Give you all of my two so maybe you can three
Prodigy will forever will S-H-I-N-E (shine baby, just shine)
My shit attract millions like the moon attract the sea
How dare you ever in your life walk past me
Without acknowledgin this man as G-O-D
I shot ya faggot ass
Verse Three: Fat Joe
Now who the fuck you think you talkin to, I pay dues I spray crews
Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he's bad news
Runnin this racket, from New York to Montego
Slaughterin people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto Rico
I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longer
These bitch ass niggaz know we stronger
Than these weaklings, seekin, for respect that ain't there
Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air
Tommy guns for fun, shotties for block parties
While fresh lead heats up your insides like a fifth of Bacardi
Call the ambulance, this man's wet
Bullets cut him down from the root up just like a Gillette
razor, which I keep hidden in my oral
Ready to spatter, at any ad out, that wants to quarrel
These feds want me for some tax evasion
Now that the fact that somebody's gettin lucci that's not caucasian
Bullets be blazin through these streets filled with torture [what the deal pop]
Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Ceaser
Verse Four: Foxxy Brown
Thug niggaz give they minks to chinks
To' down we sip drinks rockin minks, flashin rings and things [what the deal]
Frontin hardcore deep inside the Jeep, mackin
Doin my thing fly nigga you a Scarface king
Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggaz for they chedda
Fuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers
Flossin rocks like the size of Fort Knox
Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy bangin like Versace locs pops [what the deal]
Want ta the creep, on the light raw ass cheeks
I'm sexin raw dog without protection, diseaese infested
Uh, Italiano got the Lucciano
I gets down fuckin with Brown Fox extra keys to the drop
Boo I'm Jingling Baby, I got crazy Dominicans who pay me
to lay low, I play slow
Roll with tha Firm, Mafiaso crime king pin
It all real nigga what tha deal
I shot ya!
Verse Five: LL Cool J
What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole world
Crushed Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T's girl
But still, niggaz want to instigate shit
I'll battle any nigga in tha rap game quick
Name the spot, I make it hot for ya bitches
Female rappers too, I don't give a fuck boo
Word, I'm here to crush all my peers
Rhymes of the month in The Source for twenty years
Niggaz scared, I'm detrimental to your mental state
I use my presedential Rolex to be debate
Niggaz fight, glock cocked ya temple gets fucked
MC's, that fuck with LL they gets bucked
That's real, what's up with that I Shot Ya deal?
Light shit, niggaz slip now how the bullet feel?
New York appeal, in L.A. they gang bang
But if you touch a mic your motherfuckin ass hang
That's facts, niggaz don't recieve no type of slack
Cause if they do, they ass is always runnin back
Not this time, but next time I'ma name names
LL, shittin from on top of the game
I SHOT YA!
