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L.L. Cool J Lyrics for Song: Murdergram
 Lyrics for Album: Mama Said Knock You Out [1990]
 
 
 
 1793>Aiyyo don't go near the speakers
 
 
 
 [LL Cool J]
 
 The big showdown the display is skill
 
 I'm the type of Picasso witcha 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'ma do you wrong
 
 Any emcee who you wanna 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 V.E.T.
 
 The channel 31 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 sable 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 ansd 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 ?stagger wagger? 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 (Whassup?) 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'ma 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
 
 1793>
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| Album Lyrics: Mama Said Knock You Out [1990] |  
| 
  L.L. Cool J
 "Mama Said Knock You Out [1990]"
 
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