[LL COOL J]
There was smoke when the mother's water broke
The doc saw the horns, oh my God, it's a goat
The nurse cut the cord, got shocked with a million volts
Almost dropped him on the floor, but the baby started to float
Umbilical cord turned into a gold rope
A mic appeared in his hand, body started to jolt
Angels injected him with lyrical dope
The same drug they gave Hemingway and Edgar Allen Poe
The whole world's raving for the baby, the bell tolls
A crowd gathered 'round, throwin' punches and elbows
Then his mama arose and recited a poem
Todd's a hip-hop god, fuck rock and roll
Put the baby in the whip, there was a solar eclipse
Then a spirit came, wrote his name down in hieroglyphs
Breakbeats played, he had speaker for a crib
She screamed, "Jack the Rip" and ignited his gifts
To the parents, he's a legend, to the children a myth
Here's some firsthand experience of Mr. Smith
Alias: Mr. Killin'-Every-Rapper-In-His-Radius
Ciphers to stadiums, bars is vibranium
Molecular structure of the nucleus of his cranium
Platinum, uranium, lyrical titanium
In other words, whoever it concern
If you fuck around with fire, you gon' get that ass turned to ash
True story, I'm a walkin' crematorium
Helpin' rappers earn obituaries from historians
Bangin' on 'em, yellow tape and red sheets layin' on 'em
Carved hands, tombstones, prayin' for 'em
Movin' the chess pieces like telekinesis
As a toddler, he walked with two panthers on leashes
Learned early on where the mark of the beast is
By the time he hit puberty, he richer than Croesus
Slicker than Odysseus on a odyssey, intellect is part of me
So pardon me if it's harder to follow me
What does that mean?
He's a mythological melanated progeny of royalty, sprayin' you with soliloquies
Gil Heron with the camouflage gear on
Ignorance is the virus, my ink is the interferon (Yeah)
The last poet, revolutionary with guns loaded (Mad Squablz)
Back to elevate the culture, that's my only motive
[Mad Squablz]
Uh, to fuck with me, you need your ammo up
Proceed to stand on punks, you know the schemes will leave your flannel scuffed
Peep the handle, son, know my procedure be to damage stuff
No Madden franchise, but this my season, we just havin' fun
Uh, cash rules everythin' I hate and love
Niggas hate to face reality, that's why we takin' drugs
Payin' plugs, but there will come a time when it just ain't enough
You might just turn to Cobain if you ain't as tough
I might emerge with propane, it's a fatal stunt
Properly insert a bold claim as if I ain't the one
And now I'm rhymin' with a legend like I said I would
Intrinsically, I murder beats just like a legend should
Tried to convince 'em I was meant for this, the best I could
Niggas narcoleptic, won't accept I'm here to wreck for good
Feelin' more intrepid, more receptive since I left the hood
Feelin' more adept and on your neck's where l'ma plant my foot
[J-S.A.N.D.]
Name a nigga that flow harder, flow more graphic than flowcharts
Won't relax till I build up these plaques and hold tartar
Spare no targets, got a flow so nauseous
I cough up words and throw bars up
Hardly a reverend, but I'm always gon' thank the Lord for the blessings
In life, I learned that takin' losses is a part of the lesson
I fathered you peasants, you niggas my sons
So when I kill you motherfuckers, we'll just call it postpartum depression
Lafayette, Louisiana, where niggas be squeezin' hammers
Niggas don't speak with grammar, so people gon think we bamas
It's frequent to keep your hands up, anybody can get it
And anybody can give it to you, it's like Secret Santa
I'm sayin', you niggas is nothin' like me and my
You look at niggas and deify, we defy
Defeat and divide, reheat and refry
Niggas ain't reachin' this high, need to repeat and retry
Bitch, I'm too different to be in any competition with y'all
The only way I quit is if you get petitions involved
So you can place your bets, you bet against me, you gon' stay in debt
I stay the best 'cause I'm the only rookie that can face the vets
You little niggas never raisin' threats
You niggas bitter and y'all sweet, you motherfuckers is Raisinettes
I'm layin' low and chasin' checks
'Cause when I blow, I'm finna run the rap game like the FitnessGram Pacer Test
[Don Pablito]
You niggas can't check me, I hope your next move don't upset me
Got fresh prints on this barrel, in a suit like Jeffrey
I get you clean through your towel, had to clean up the towns
For the beef we browse, like releasin' the hounds
Had the monkey on the counter with his hands on his mouth
The other monkey for his ears so we ain't hearin' you out
The third monkey had his hands over his eyes
So you can get buried if you imply
I'm outta the country where two can dine, now honey, you can't deny
The shooters come in flurries like Curry and Luka Don
Now say hello to the motherfuckin' Don
Tip toe, don't you come across that line (Don't die)
'Cause you just one of plenty niggas, I ain't any nigga
Billion dollars worth of silly niggas, we brought Gillie with us
That separate you from your mama titty, nigga
Jump up out the Bentley, nigga, better sit up when you see the dealer
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
