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  • Текст песни LL Cool J - Murdergram

    Просмотров: 6
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
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    На этой странице находится текст песни LL Cool J - Murdergram, а также перевод песни и видео или клип.
    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 thirty-one, 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

    Смотрите также:

    Все тексты LL Cool J >>>

    Затем оставьте битву выглядеть так же счастливым, как недавно сму
    Дайте мне технику-девяти, чтобы спрей
    Сохраните Peep и поместите его на закон
    Я сделаю прямую почтальон и отправлю варенье, которое поклонники поймут
    Почувствуй, как ты плачу о убийстве

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