LL Cool J

LL Cool J - Mr Smith songtekst

Je score:
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

 Verse 1:

 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
 *repeat x3*

 Verse 2:

 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


 To the bridge


 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

 Verse 3:

 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

 Chorus to fade
Vind dit lied op:


Auteur: Chylow Parker, Hubert Laws, LL Cool J

Componist: ?

Publisher: Def Jam Records, Inc.


Uitgegeven in: 1995

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Mr. Smith (1995)

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