| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 1:36 | 
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| 2. |
| 4:32 | 
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Intro: 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 track it'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* Check it out! Funny Jokes |
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| 3. |
| 5:00 |
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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 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 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) 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 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) 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! |
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| 4. |
| 4:45 |
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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 CHORUS |
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| 5. |
| 4:54 |
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Intro: LL Cool J
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 LL Cool J : It's the first time together and I'm feeling kinda horny. Conventional methods of making love kinda bore me. I wanna knock your block off, get my rocks soft, 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. J : So watcha sayin', I get my swerve on, bring it live, Make it last forever, damn the kitty cat's tired. L : Mmm... Daddy slow down your float. Put it on my like G baby NICE AND SLOW. I need a rough neck nigger man dingle in a sec, Who ain't afraid to pull my hands, spank me from the back. J : No doubt, I'm the player that you're talkin' about. L : But do you really think that you can work it out. J : I guarantee shorty it's real, baby stick it out, Here comes the man of steel. Chorus X2: L : Doin' it and doin' it and doin' it well, Doin' it and doin' it and doin' it well, Doin' it and doin' it and doin' it well, J : I represent Queens, she was raised out in Brooklyn. I'm in the mix now, searching for the right spot, To hit now, get down, L : Damn my lover dig down. You use a rubber, J : Damn right. L : You are my lover, J : All night. L : Was pretty good till you heard the rubber, J : Man tight. The only thing left to do is climax, Let's make it last, L : Word we ain't goin' out like that. All this time you've been telling that you was a dime. J : I tried to warn you girl you wouldn't listen, Now let's get it on. L : Mmm, baby while, don't do that. Chill wait a minute baby let me please you back. J : You talk good one Chili love you're makin' me sweat, How a live nigger like it girl? L : Nice and wet. We get it on to the record and damn your large, How a big girl like it daddy? J : Nice and hard. Safe sexin' it, flexin' it, gettin' that affectionate, Chewin' it, doin' it, all while we're doin' it. Chorus X2 J : Baby, I wanna hit it in the worst way. L : Make it hot. J : Scheming on the ass since the first day. L : Don't stop. Damn I love it when you talk like that. Make it bounce sugar, J : Long as you can bounce me back. More flesh than the greek fest, L : Roll up the sex. J : Pass the fantasy, L : Put my body to the test. Wait wait daddy many niggers ago, I was a young girl listening to higher flow. Now's my chance to hit you off daddy I'm grown. From the back, from the side, J : Right, I'm in the zone. One of a kind when it's time to do mine. Camcorder and the whole shit, L : Press rewind. Let it flow on the screen while we puffs the L. Layin' back in the cut while we're under the spell. J : Word life, I like the way the F went down. Go to sleep, tomorrow I'll take you back downtown. We'll be, Chorus |
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| 6. |
| 2:44 |
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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 Chorus x2 |
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| 7. |
| 3:51 |
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[Keith Murray]
Ha! Yeah,L.O.D. Keith Murray, Def Squad Mista, Mista, Mista, Mista Smith You wanna hit? (You wanna hit?) 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 the 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 you'se 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 The L.O.D. love good confrontation or vamp (Word up!) Break your concentration, murder your camp For the jealous, overzealous, we fellas Blow the the spot like Branford Marsalis Niggas coming through and acting wild Y'all commercial niggas better have a Coke and a smile I shot ya! [Prodigy] Yo, I conversate wit many men, it's time to begin again Forgot what I already knew, hey yo you hear me friend? Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body Secret society, trying 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 saying on the records real Yeah you motherfucking right kid you know the deal My Mobb is Infamous just like the fucking 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 (alright) But anyway, back on the real side of things My niggas 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 acknowledging this man as G-O-D I shot ya fagot ass [Fat Joe] Now who the fuck you think you talking to, I pay dues I spray crews Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he's bad news Running this racket, from New York to Montego Slaughtering people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto Rico I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longer These bitch ass niggas know we stronger Than these weaklings, seeking, 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 getting lucci that's not Caucasian Bullets be blazing through these streets filled with torture (what the deal pop) Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Ceaser [Foxxy Brown] Thug niggas give they minks to chinks To' down we sip drinks rockin minks, flashing rings and things (what the deal) Fronting hardcore deep inside the Jeep, macking Doing my thing fly nigga you a Scarface king Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggas for they cheddar Fuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers Flossing rocks like the size of Fort Knox Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy banging like Versace locs pops (what the deal) Want ta the creep, on the light raw ass cheeks I'm sexing raw dog without protection, disease infested Italiano got the Lucciano I gets down fucking 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 the Firm, Mafiaso crime king pin It all real nigga what tha deal I shot ya! [LL Cool J] What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole world Crushed Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T's girl But still, niggas 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 Niggas scared, I'm detrimental to your mental state I use my presidential Rolex to be debate Niggas 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, niggas slip now how the bullet feel? New York appeal, in L.A. they gang bang But if you touch a mic your motherfucking ass hang That's facts, niggaz don't receive no type of slack Cause if they do, they ass is always running back Not this time, but next time I'ma name names LL, shitting from on top of the game I SHOT YA! |
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| 8. |
| 3:59 |
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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 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 Mr Smith you got the shit sewed up Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up Mr Smith you got the shit sewed up Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up Mr Smith you got the shit sewed up Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up 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 Mr Smith you got the shit sewed up Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up 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 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 Mr Smith you got the shit sewed up Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up |
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| 9. |
| 5:43 |
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Intro: 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 |
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| 10. |
| 4:12 |
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Keep it chickenhead,I'm lookin for a dime
Get my swirve on,make it hot,word is bond, I'm lickin on your ankle Bracelet,we'll be sippin' moet wit strawberries and dat shit, I'm nasty ask me Why I lick my lips so in the darkness I can run my tongue over your tits Its all good sugary,you ain't 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 you 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 piece,hennessey up in my hand I turn out the lights like teddy,I'm feenin', standin' in the darkness, now I'm ready Oh yeah up in ya,let it flow while I pump slow,then I speed it up, heat it up Make it mo' tasty,so you can swing low and lace me Use your imagination,you do me,I do you,sex education Its all good, it's cranberry absolut, peach shnapps, feelin' tipsy, loungin' on the rooftops I'm 'bout to spank you on dat ass(ooh) I know you love it when it lasts(true) when You need it who you ask (you) what you sayin' when I dash (dont go boo) [Chorus] You got to bounce wit me suga,word up,you got to bounce wit me suga,worda Worda, word up Warm it up sugar, make it hot, shorties'll swarm, make me want to 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 Laying up at night, peepin' at stars, remember, when we was at the club in the bars? I told ya my status was that of a don, you thought I was a dog and you ain't want to Get it on, but my mind has attractin' qualities,all the emotions of a young lady So here you are,smack dab up in the mix,shorty this here's about as good as it gets Word up,I'ma treat you like a queen from the heart, crack the bubbly, and let the Episode start. [Chorus] |
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| 11. |
| 3:59 |
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"All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost." 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 Check it. |
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| 12. |
| 3:48 |
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Intro: 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 track drop 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? |
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| 13. |
| 3:57 |
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Check it out
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! |
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| 14. |
| 0:30 |
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| 15. |
| 5:04 |
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[Keith Murray]
Ha! Yeah,L.O.D. Keith Murray, Def Squad Mista, Mista, Mista, Mista Smith You wanna hit? (You wanna hit?) 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 the 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 you'se 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 The L.O.D. love good confrontation or vamp (Word up!) Break your concentration, murder your camp For the jealous, overzealous, we fellas Blow the the spot like Branford Marsalis Niggas coming through and acting wild Y'all commercial niggas better have a Coke and a smile I shot ya! [Prodigy] Yo, I conversate wit many men, it's time to begin again Forgot what I already knew, hey yo you hear me friend? Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body Secret society, trying 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 saying on the records real Yeah you motherfucking right kid you know the deal My Mobb is Infamous just like the fucking 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 (alright) But anyway, back on the real side of things My niggas 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 acknowledging this man as G-O-D I shot ya fagot ass [Fat Joe] Now who the fuck you think you talking to, I pay dues I spray crews Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he's bad news Running this racket, from New York to Montego Slaughtering people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto Rico I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longer These bitch ass niggas know we stronger Than these weaklings, seeking, 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 getting lucci that's not Caucasian Bullets be blazing through these streets filled with torture (what the deal pop) Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Ceaser [Foxxy Brown] Thug niggas give they minks to chinks To' down we sip drinks rockin minks, flashing rings and things (what the deal) Fronting hardcore deep inside the Jeep, macking Doing my thing fly nigga you a Scarface king Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggas for they cheddar Fuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers Flossing rocks like the size of Fort Knox Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy banging like Versace locs pops (what the deal) Want ta the creep, on the light raw ass cheeks I'm sexing raw dog without protection, disease infested Italiano got the Lucciano I gets down fucking 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 the Firm, Mafiaso crime king pin It all real nigga what tha deal I shot ya! [LL Cool J] What the fuck? I thought I conquered the whole world Crushed Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T's girl But still, niggas 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 Niggas scared, I'm detrimental to your mental state I use my presidential Rolex to be debate Niggas 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, niggas slip now how the bullet feel? New York appeal, in L.A. they gang bang But if you touch a mic your motherfucking ass hang That's facts, niggaz don't receive no type of slack Cause if they do, they ass is always running back Not this time, but next time I'ma name names LL, shitting from on top of the game I SHOT YA! |
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| 16. |
| 4:57 |
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Intro: I do this for you baby Papa luv it do', y'knowI'msayin Mmm, (Do you want to be a player) Yeah (Then you got to have that flavour) More of that Mr.Smith flavour, bust ya brain right quick, y'know (Do you got to be right) Second move y'knowI'msayin? (at all times?) Yeah, all the time, all good Verse 1: Uhh, that's the sound of the man Workin with the mic in my hand Ready or not here I come It's another one (Damn, not another one) Yeah We bring it just like dat (like dat) Droppin triple platinum flavour on the drum tap Dog a donut nice and crafty Poke your lips out sassy when you ask me Special request is granted (aah) Head all slanted, (uhh) the gym has planted (So what you tellin me you're too smooth to pop?) If it pops should I stop 'fore it drops? Who knows? Who goes? Who flows? Me and you? (Yeah) just remember boo (I promise I'll remember) Everything I do girl (I promise) I do it for you, word is bond (I know) word is bond Chorus: Papa luv it way she does it (Do you wanna be a player?) Uh Papa luv it way she does it (Then you got to have that flavour) Yeah Papa luv it way she does it (Do you got to be right) (at all times) Papa luv it way she does it *repeat* Verse 2: Feel it, hold out your hands (and) open up (damn) now let it flow from both cups (aw man) Is he good? (No doubt) All the time, miss Is he right? (No doubt) One of a kind, miss Now tell me what you really talkin bout in three words or less Ladies (get it out) like this I luv it when I give it to you raw, baby Hate to hurt but hurtin makes you crazy (crazy) It's my duty to dig booby Make a video ( |
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