TOP песен исполнителя
"LL Cool J"
"LL Cool J"
TOP альбомов исполнителя
"LL Cool J"
"LL Cool J"
название:
автор:
альбомы: Mama Said Knock You Out
Murdergram
автор:
LL Cool J
альбомы: Mama Said Knock You Out
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.2 / 1154 просмотра
- Текст
- Открытка с текстом
Hey yo, don't go near the speakers The big showdown; the display is skill I'm the type of Picasso with ya girl on the pill Take a family snap shot, kiss ya wife Cause I'm like a knife, the concrete is right And I'll take ya life, and take ya like python I'm a do you wrong Any emcee who you want to name? I want pain that I can be tamed Talkin' about guns, punk, it don't alarm me Got enough cash to make a whole damn army I can't hold back the way that I feel Cause when I bust a rhyme it's like ya slippin' off banana peels Ya like fruit cake, ya fruit cocktails First your title, now I'm takin' your female All of a sudden you're so proud of a black A baseball hat but you ain't sayin' jack The ripper is back, and you can't escape Cause one of my records will sell more than your whole tape I want beef, so bring on the rookies I got more than just Cool J cookies Rip, rock, crush, stop, cop; I'm poison; come and take a drop I bet ya teeth will end up around the corner, kid Don't ask me why I did it I'm civilized damage to a nobody And I'm carrying a gun if I'm rhyming at the party New York, Chicago, Detroit, LA I'll slay wherever ya play D.C. or Philly, or Baltimore I'm worrying the rich, invading the poor Perpetrating in your video; here's the real smoothing Country accents; who do you think you're foolin'? I play "crushable," "late night craps" You only knew 'cause ya onto your raps And rap city and B.E.T. The channel 31, and, but now here I come To save the day and the now you're getting done Like a hooker, don't try to soul, crumb The first sign of the battle you little fake It's, comin' out ya kitchen sink Your Mic's a baby bottle, son Some say they ain't, but I am the one The slice is that the fire, boy, it'll break ya Servin' or heard 'em; a word occurred to him Then he could move; a would get moved on Like a shotgun blast, big mouth emcees, I'll bet ya none last Cause they ain't stable or able And I bruise the party like jumper cables So plug me in, and put me on I'm serial hard, so I can battle amore From coast to coast fly, cripple, and crazy Use a dictionary, but you still don't phase me Listen and we can sound cheap Reach out for my blackness, but your records ain't wack this Your bitin' on the castle door but when you fall in the moat I won't see ya no more Let's get together and diss LL Use his name and ya records might sell I can't believe you found a dead maggots Crawlin' all over my name, I won't have that You better look in the mirror and re-think your plan Why walk in quicksand When you can stand on your own two feet? I'm rippin' emcees a funky drum with a big beat Name the date and a or Rainer Ya three year old ballerina I can't believe the suckers try to throw-down Whether you're new or older than old town Just kick back; I don't like a, psycho rap You can't handle the format Whether you're swab or swoon Ruff or rugged, all I need is a broom If I slay the way they slay, punk play the pay Mr. Morris has entered the buffet Some of y'all are sittin' in rows Plates of hot butter rolls, beat ya with balamey Slap ya with salami, 'cause when I get hot I get hot like pastrami Then I make ya wonder why you don't hear bass But you feel the thunder You get cooked; I'll knock out your tooth We'll be fighting from lobby to the roof You are on me like I wrote your dinnertime Yo, Marley. (Whats up?) Spill the time (Nah, man, just kick a little warmth) Pass the brass knuckles then we break his jaw When I'm on the microphone I want silence Let KRS-One stop the violence Ain't no rivals, ain't no competition Punk, I'm beatin' ya into submission I'm gettin' busier than ever before Never more will I'll slack, I'm a keep it real raw Eat ya up like a pack-jam Video is poppin' over a Batman Rippin' you to shreds, tappin' you on the head Then leave the battle lookin' as happy as a newly wed Give me a tech-nine to spray Save the peep, and put it on law-away I'll make a mailman spin and send a jam the fans will understand Feel ya weep about the murdergram
Это интересно:Если бы 45 лет назад журналисты узнали вдруг, что зимой 1968-го года в самом эпицентре метаморфоз американской культурной жизни, в городе Нью-Йорке появится на свет один из первых знаменитых рэпперов на планете, они бы, наверное, удивились. Наверняка пристальное внимание к персоне Джеймса Тодда Смита надоело бы в первую очередь ему самому. Но как бы то ни было, сколько он себя помнит, все это... продолжение
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