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L.L. Cool J

Mr. Smith

836 3 часа назад

Текст песни L.L. Cool J - Mr. Smith

L.L. Cool J - Mr. Smith слова песни




Intro:Uh Mr. Smith, Mr Smith, Mr SmithUh Mr Smith, it`s the bomb y`knowhutI`msayin? Mr SmithMr Smith, word up kid, yeah Mr Smith, check it outVerse 1:I`m goin to the top leavin smoke in my trailBitch ass gangstas put that ass on saleAnd even if I`m twice as expensive as the restwhen I go for dolo you ain`t checkin for nuttin lessMy strategy is splittin brain cavity`sIt`s ya majesty bringin you a tragedyYeah, on the butcher block slice her like a oxWhen it`s time to get down, nigga I jam like a GlockI bust thru all types of red tape and sue papesNiggas come old but they always wanna infiltrateI`m cuttin snakes thru the belly witta icepickand scoopin hotties, a strong aisle of flip tripsIt`s the rebirth of murkin niggas once againI drain with ink and put your blood in my penI`m breakin ribs til somethin givesA nigga got to live and Mr Smith is power god, kidChorus:Mr Smith you got the shit sewed upWork ya thang baby, show em how to blow up*repeat x3*Verse 2:What? You wanna do what? You lack the vitalityoriginality, so face realityI`m on some ole wild shit, ya niggas can`t get witMatter of fact, mornin yawn and suck a dickNah hold up, the fuck is goin on?All these cartoon character MC`s gettin airborneTakin off like a hot air balloonGoin up up up, oh no kaboomBring your heroes down to ground zeroShotty grippin ya grill like Pesci and DeNiroI`m on some [BLANK] shit, throats is gettin shitScoopedin New Jacks and kick em in the *?fire bit?*Tell them ole Jap niggas they need to go and stick itcos when it comes to this rap shit I`m mad wickedThe grand sire bringin flavour to the whole gameMr Smith is my motherfuckin nameChorusTo the bridgeBridge:Mr Smith (I was a mack since birth)Talkin bout Mr Smith (I invented the taadow!) UhTalkin bout Mr SmithTalkin bout Mr SmithTalkin bout Verse 3:Time`s up, your rhyme`s up, mix the lines upI`m about to blow the spot up with that divine touchI got the magnetic energetic lyrical calastheticYa better call a medic cos ya look patheticGuan boy it`s the champion Mr SmithYour niggas couldn`t raise up with a forkliftCocked the hammer, peep out the grammarIt`s hard like Bacardi and hot like a house partyAll your so-called flavour niggas is deadedYour next step is where ya headed so don`t forget itYour rhymes is beat, your steelo`s scarred to scrapeWhen you scream you sound muddy like a bled teethI get`cha open like f-lay, `tack you when I sprayLethal compositions around your wayI`m the maniacal murderous Mr James SmithRippin ya ass out the frame with my verbal giftChorus to fade

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