Текст песни L.L. Cool J - The Ripper Strikes Back, слова песни L.L. Cool J

Текст песни L.L. Cool J - The Ripper Strikes Back

L.L. Cool J - The Ripper Strikes Back слова песни

We just gon have some fun with hip hopA lil hip hop... relax, hold on to ya seatsOh yeah this is the total banger tooWord up, total banger babyHip-Hop style baby, y`all rememberBy the middle of March, when the pregnancy startsIn your ladies` placenta, that means L just enteredDuck taped your little bitch ass for frontinYou poor little crackhead ass ain`t hurtin nuttinNigga you want the fame, now you`re famous overnightFamous for getting fucked by a stick of dynamiteYou`re weak nigga, you bout to die up in your sleepThe overlord of rap will never meet defeatPain and agony, I don`t touch them zonesFucking everlasting lyrical methods is my throneBlast ya fifty pound ass and make you floatYou read it shook nigga, I wrote the book, niggaHeld down my crown for a decade and a halfNow I`m bout to give your grimy ass a blood bathTalk about bein broke, nigga I`m richCause I learned, to seperated the money from the bitchDon`t hate me cause I`m paid, hate me becauseI`m everything you want to be : handsome, young, plus legendaryTalk about Farrakhan, nigga you got to call Jesse JacksonFor some Affirmative ActionChorus: repeat 4XCan-I-Bus ! Yes you can!Don`t ever open your mouth and mention my seedsTalk about my book you bought to readYou know you watch the sitcom nigga so stop thatMad rapper, but now you turned mad actorForty-nine pounds and tryin to be a monsterRun around town with the Bob Marley impostersAsk Canibus, he ain`t understandin thisCause ninety-nine percent of his fans, don`t existI`m goin underground and blowin your rep downNext time, save that shit for the Lyricist`s LoungeOr a House Party, where you can battle some clownOn top of all that, I beat your homeless ass downHeard that convicted rapist on the record tooFresh out of jail, ass cheeks still black and blueTell me bout the things ear biter taught youHow to bust a nut or two? (Yeah that`s butta boo)You be decomposin, but you frozen because my title`s stolenSteady rollin in a world that I`m controllinVanguard awards are for Kings who get OFF!Clock platinum mountains, the praise of the LordTalkin bout my first and second and third bornNow I got a fourth, Canibus, but he cut offFrom the riches of my empire, I`m like a pimpWho thought he had to retire but found a new Canibus to hireYou`re hardcore, innocence like Heather HunterBut definitely not with the lyrics that drop thunderFound you in a trash can, hat black, cause you scared to bustNigga in Todd we trustChorusNow break it down for me !See I, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, amateur, M,C`sin hip-hop, word up, no bullshitOh I ain`t done yetYou soft as a newborn baby takin a napMake my dick hard with that bitch ass trackWhere you at? Smokin in some one room flatSuckin on Clef`s dick hopin to come backNever that, nigga my size is unlimitedYours is prohibited, of course that`s contributedTo not knowin ya limits and who you need to testWhen you step into the house of the Lord and get blessedGet on your knees, bow down to my degreesYoung slacker, save that demo for Jack the RapperYou gargoyle, slash olive oil, pussycatI wrapped up in aluminum foil, ready to boilI`ma tear the skin off ya ass with ten knucklesRhymes was weak, they made me chuckle like a name buckleYou call em lyrics, nigga you need to stopYou goin out --- ahh fuck it, you goin popI feed you a poisonous verse so don`t try itNo more rhymin, you on a lyric fast dietCall the paramedic and tell them that he patheticHis lyrics ain`t energetic you`re sweet as a diabeticCareer be over next year, yeah I said itLook over your shoulder nigga, where you headedMUTHAFUCKA, where`s a rhyme when you need it?First rule of lyrical war, never repeat itYou said that same bullshit at House of BluesLit the pipe, dropped the match, and sparked the wrong fuseThat`s you, yeah nigga I`m goin at youStop basin`, and you can be a role model tooDiss my moms, who`s the real Rap Don ?Who ruled for fifteen years and drops bombs ?Who`s got solid gold Grammy`s that say Toddwhile you dropped verses at niggas` promsFaggot, you better battle number twoCause number one, got his title locked down sonThe King of all rappers that ever graced the stageor the mic, best that ever did it I`m wickedWrite a verse and flip it, melt it down to liquidAnd drown shorty, fill his lungs until I rip itChest busts open, heart bursts and smokinYOU SEE THAT NIGGA SON? (Damn L, we was only jokin)Maneuver manipulate brainwaves transformyour thought process, when my pen gets erectWarning, all MC`s better retreatLook at corny-bus, he can`t walk down his own streetBetter run and get the FugeesCause I EAT, EAT, EAT, MC`sDevour they titles, cause I`m an idol slash iconAnd tell Wyclef, don`t even turn his fuckin mic onSold ya nigga, thought I told ya niggaCrossover, slam dunk, game over nigga (one more time son)Sold ya nigga, thought I told ya niggaCrossover, slam dunk, game over nigga Chorus" Now wait for the studio audience to applaud, faggot, hahahah "

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L.L. Cool J

The Ripper Strikes Back

Текст песни L.L. Cool J - The Ripper Strikes Back

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