LL Cool J - The Ripper Strikes Back Lyrics
We just gon have some fun with hip hopA lil hip hop... relax, hold on to ya seatsOh yeah this is the total banger tooWord up, total banger babyHip-hop style baby, yall rememberBy the middle of march, when the pregnancy startsIn your ladies placenta, that means l just enteredDuck taped your little ***** ass for frontinYou poor little crackhead ass aint hurtin nuttinNigga you want the fame, now youre famous overnightFamous for getting *****ed by a stick of dynamiteYoure weak nigga, you bout to die up in your sleepThe overlord of rap will never meet defeatPain and agony, I dont touch them zones*****ing everlasting lyrical methods is my throneBlast ya fifty pound ass and make you floatYou read it shook nigga, I wrote the book, niggaHeld down my crown for a decade and a halfNow Im bout to give your grimy ass a blood bathTalk about bein broke, nigga Im richCause I learned, to seperated the money from the *****Dont hate me cause Im paid, hate me becauseIm everything you want to be : handsome, young, plus legendaryTalk about farrakhan, nigga you got to call jesse jacksonFor some affirmative actionChorus: repeat 4xCan-i-bus ! yes you can!Dont ever open your mouth and mention my seedsTalk about my book you bought to readYou know you watch the sitcom nigga so stop thatMad rapper, but now you turned mad actorForty-nine pounds and tryin to be a monsterRun around town with the bob marley impostersAsk canibus, he aint understandin thisCause ninety-nine percent of his fans, dont existIm goin underground and blowin your rep downNext time, save that shit for the lyricists loungeOr a house party, where you can battle some clownOn top of all that, I beat your homeless ass downHeard that convicted rapist on the record tooFresh out of jail, ass cheeks still black and blueTell me bout the things ear biter taught youHow to bust a nut or two? (yeah thats butta boo)You be decomposin, but you frozen because my titles stolenSteady rollin in a world that Im controllinVanguard awards are for kings who get off!Clock platinum mountains, the praise of the lordTalkin bout my first and second and third bornNow I got a fourth, canibus, but he cut offFrom the riches of my empire, Im like a pimpWho thought he had to retire but found a new canibus to hireYoure hardcore, innocence like heather hunterBut definitely not with the lyrics that drop thunderFound you in a trash can, hat black, cause you scared to bustNigga in todd we trustChorusNow break it down for me !See i, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, amateur, m,csIn hip-hop, word up, no bullshitOh I aint done yetYou soft as a newborn baby takin a napMake my dick hard with that ***** ass trackWhere you at? smokin in some one room flatSuckin on clefs dick hopin to come backNever that, nigga my size is unlimitedYours is prohibited, of course thats contributedTo not knowin ya limits and who you need to testWhen you step into the house of the lord and get blessedGet on your knees, bow down to my degreesYoung slacker, save that demo for jack the rapperYou gargoyle, slash olive oil, *****catI wrapped up in aluminum foil, ready to boilIma tear the skin off ya ass with ten knucklesRhymes was weak, they made me chuckle like a name buckleYou call em lyrics, nigga you need to stopYou goin out --- ahh ***** it, you goin popI feed you a poisonous verse so dont try itNo more rhymin, you on a lyric fast dietCall the paramedic and tell them that he patheticHis lyrics aint energetic youre sweet as a diabeticCareer be over next year, yeah I said itLook over your shoulder nigga, where you headedMutha*****a, wheres a rhyme when you need it?First rule of lyrical war, never repeat itYou said that same bullshit at house of bluesLit the pipe, dropped the match, and sparked the wrong fuseThats you, yeah nigga Im goin at youStop basin, and you can be a role model tooDiss my moms, whos the real rap don ?Who ruled for fifteen years and drops bombs ?Whos got solid gold grammys that say toddWhile you dropped verses at niggas promsFaggot, you better battle number twoCause number one, got his title locked down sonThe king of all rappers that ever graced the stageOr the mic, best that ever did it Im wickedWrite a verse and flip it, melt it down to liquidAnd drown shorty, fill his lungs until I rip itChest busts open, heart bursts and smokinYou see that nigga son? (damn l, we was only jokin)Maneuver manipulate brainwaves transformYour thought process, when my pen gets erectWarning, all mcs better retreatLook at corny-bus, he cant walk down his own streetBetter run and get the fugeesCause I eat, eat, eat, mcsDevour they titles, cause Im an idol slash iconAnd tell wyclef, dont even turn his *****in mic onSold ya nigga, thought I told ya niggaCrossover, slam dunk, game over nigga (one more time son)Sold ya nigga, thought I told ya niggaCrossover, slam dunk, game over niggaChorusNow wait for the studio audience to applaud, faggot, hahahah
