| [2x] |
(And you say New York City...) |
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[Chorus:] |
| [4x] |
(They're jinglin', baby) Go 'head, baby. |
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Uncle. L. Future of the funk. Records I recorded minus all the junk. |
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People spread gossip and believe what they must, |
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but I slam dunk punks and make 'me bite the dust. |
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A minute is needed to make a phony roni bleed, |
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and put 'em in a bucket like he's chicken feed. |
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Check out the...pick of the litter, not a quitter, I'm nice (nice-nice); |
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and I'm-a dust you off and dust you off twice. |
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I heard it's all observant, hysterical fan- |
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-natics of the Asiatic miracle man. |
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Prominent, dominant, McCoy and I'm real. |
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Another brother's fan? Forget how you feel. |
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He's so-so, I got the instinct. |
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They call me Deputy Dog to put your booty in the clink. |
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You're dancin' to a Marley Marl remix single, love: |
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Let me see your earrings jingle, love... |
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[Chorus 4x] |
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I chopped you, chewed you, baked you, and schooled you. |
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That slop you pop, you need to stop, you're kind of rude you |
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no good niggaboo tryin' to base, how we livin', homes? Get out my face! |
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I'm complete, in effect, and I can't maul. |
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Rise, suprise, and I advise you all. |
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To stand back and peep, don't sleep or doubt. |
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My skill'll get ill, I turn the mother out, huh. |
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I'm top-notch, you're playin' hop-scotch. |
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Now I'm-a do ya while the party people watch. |
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You're real funny, you really try to go for yours. |
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But I know why: you ain't had no dough before. |
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So you tried and lied to drain my fame. |
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This ain't a game, yo, you know my name. |
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Innovating, devastating, and dope on a single, now, |
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dance to my remix single... |
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[Chorus 4x] |
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When you first walked in, I ain't know what to think, |
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cuz you grabbed the microphone like your booty don't stink. |
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And tried to run down that, I can't get over that |
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garbage you were sayin': you call that a battle rap? |
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How you gonna go against an army with a handgun? |
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I'm L.L., and you don't understand, son. |
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I'm a legend, on top of that I'm livin'. |
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Now you look booty like that bum Miss Givins. |
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Whoever geesed you up...nah, how should I say it? |
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Whoever set you up, they knew just how to play it. |
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Cuz man, YO, I feel for ya brother, I'm a baaaaaad... |
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(Word to the mother!) |
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Takin' out sucker while the ladies pucker, |
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and rollin' over punks like a redneck trucker. |
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Innovating, devastating, and dope on a single, now... |
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lemme see your earrings jingle... |
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[Chorus 4x] ...break down! |
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[Chorus 4x] |
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Can't believe you tried to get the same mic as me, |
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your grip's too weak, you can't hold it, B. |
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You can dream of makin' progress and gettin' this nice, |
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but when I roll up, it's like Hip Hop Vice. |
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Serve to curbs, I never swerve a superb. |
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Every word you heard played tricks on your nerves. |
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Played your hand, lost track of your plan, |
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when I show up, I blow up, end of story, my man. |
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Play you like a poker chip, that's what you get. |
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I bet your fret, sweat, and regret you met |
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the Titan of Fightin', excitin' when writin', |
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you're trite from the toy, boy, I gotta enlight, so start bitin'. |
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You know you can't create and get mean like this; |
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when I'm on the court, G, it's strictly SWISSSSHHHH! |
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When it's all over, said and done, my friend, |
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they'll say, "L.L. Cool J just scored again." |
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So take a step back, give me some room to wreck shop. |
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Here's your token back, you're gettin' off at the next stop. |
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I'm-a deliver and give a speech with vigor. |
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Pass the wine cooler you big black.... [laughter] |
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[Chorus 8x] |
| [4x] |
(And you say New York City) |
