Murdergram Lyrics - Mama Said Knock You Out - Ll Cool J

Hey yo, don't go near the speakers 

The big showdown; the display is skill 

I'm the type of Picasso with ya 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'm a do you wrong 

Any emcee who you want to 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 B.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 stable 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 and 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, 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. (Whats up?) 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'm a 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