LL Cool J

LL Cool J - No Airplay songtekst

Je score:
Y'all wanna put it on tape and do all the real [BACKWARDS]?
 Ya just wanna go straight to dat? Aight
 You don't wanna mix it or nuttin? Aight let's do it
 You want me to do the hook part too?
 Check it out uhh  check it out uhh
 Yeah it's that Uncle L [BACKWARDS]  you know  word up
 Ain't no doubt about this  I'm settin this [BACKWARDS] right in here
 Yeah yeah yeah  I'm gonna sex this up  yeah go like this here
 Check it out

 Verse 1:

 I'm beatin [BACKWARDS] against the [BACKWARDS] up out their boots
 Flame throwin their troops, they can't recoup from drinkin acid soup
 Spectacular, benacular, miraculous raw [BACKWARDS]
 Scooped off the concrete to make a hit
 Tearin [BACKWARDS] out the hinges, competition cringes
 in the trenches, killin for mere inches
 Word to mama, I tongue kiss a piranha
 Electricute a barricuda for tryin to bring the drama
 I get more ass than a toilet seat
 So put your ballerina shoes on and tiptoe down my [BACKWARDS]
 Your mother[BACKWARDS] deathwish will be soloist
 R-double O-K-I-E you ain't stylish
 It's mother[BACKWARDS] arson from here to Parsons
 You're [BACKWARDS] dawson, it's murder, when I step in the door run
 for your mother[BACKWARDS] life, get ghost
 or taste the toast and get your [BACKWARDS] hung on a goalpost
 Startin at'cha neck to check ya for respect
 Ya back get snapped, your lower spine gets wet
 Hips get ripped and then your thighs start to slide
 I'm up thru [BACKWARDS]hole and [BACKWARDS] up your inside

 Hook:

 And don't be gettin no airplay
 A jam that'cha love, a jam that'cha love
 It's a jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay
 A jam that'cha love, a jam that'cha love

 Verse 2:

 Yeah, the rugged ass style I possess
 They got the [BACKWARDS] goin from Bel Air to baggin up sess
 [BACKWARDS]! Mother[BACKWARDS] right [BACKWARDS] in his corn
 You shoulda never put me on this mic, you was warned
 I got [BACKWARDS] chasin behind my path for garbage bags
 hopin to bring in to throw old rhyme to one of da fags
 Huh, I'm on my mother[BACKWARDS] game like dat
 I put it in your chest and make your heart go flat
 All the mother[BACKWARDS] tracks in the world can't save ya
 when I drop these chains on ya brain and enslave ya
 Once you was on a pedestal now ya gettin ridiculed
 [BACKWARDS] is critical, we're fightin at the pinnacle
 I'm burnin [BACKWARDS] like a cracker do a cross
 Ain't no three-in-a-row tic tac toe, this is a real flow boss
 Makin [BACKWARDS] understand my language
 then they rap and vanish and camouflage the damage

 Interlude:

 To whom it may concern, youknowhutI'msayin?
 We're gonna do this right here, word is bond, huh huh
 Cos it's a jam that you love that don't be gettin no airplay
 (A jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay)
 I wanna do that one right yo

 Verse 3:

 To whom it may concern on this mother[BACKWARDS] test
 I got the zest to clip ya thru ya vest
 Little shortys with big 40's talkin loud, actin proud
 BLAOW! Now ya chokin off a black cloud
 Rollin El's til your brain swells
 Inhale deep sleep and dust me off them old ass Rock The Bells
 You mother[BACKWARDS], you fruitcakes, you fakin jacks
 You [BACKWARDS] don't want it, I'm burnin up the wax
 I'm a trailblazin, gun totin, renegade
 black ass New York [BACKWARDS] choppin like a blade
 Bullshinanigans, country ass mannequins
 Mother[BACKWARDS] frontin and I bet you ain't no slam again
 Yeah what? I siad it and [BACKWARDS] sweat it
 What? You catch a heat-seekin missile in ya gut

 Outro:

 Ha ha, word is bond yo
 It's a jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay
 Yeah, ha ha, word is bond
 Y'knowhutI'msayin? I'm catchin mother[BACKWARDS] wreck in here,
 knowI'msayin?
 [BACKWARDS] to all them rookies, [BACKWARDS] word up ha ha
 Yo I got the laugh, word, knowI'msayin?
 And sometimes [BACKWARDS] skill boys, you just gotta laugh at
 mother[BACKWARDS]
 Ha ha, yeah uhh
 A jam that'cha love that don't be gettin no airplay
 A jam that'cha love, a jam that'cha love
 Yeah, I wanna shout it out to my mother[BACKWARDS] [BACKWARDS] around
 Farmers
 My [BACKWARDS] Zeus, knowI'msayin? My mother [BACKWARDS] minnan right
 diddere
 Spit at the tissturn t-t-t-tables all L willing a-a-a-able,
 youknowI'msayin?
 Get mad busy in this [BACKWARDS], y'knowI'msayin?
 My [BACKWARDS] don't give a [BACKWARDS], word up
 Set that [BACKWARDS] off right, uhh
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: Chad Elliott, Jerry Peters, LL Cool J, Maurice White

Componist: ?

Publisher: Def Jam Records, Inc.

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1995

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Mr. Smith (1995)

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