Straight From Queens Lyrics - 14 Shots To The Dome - Ll Cool J

Uncle 

Rippin' the microphone 

And blowin the stage apart. 

These MC's ain't got no heart, 

They need to quit before they start. 

Shakin' and breakin' 'em down. 

Best at least. 

Fuckin' 'em up, up at least. 

Smackin' 'em in a pilek. 

Now have a stomp and a smile, G. 

Raisin' 

Replacin' 

Like Jason. 

When I be chasin' 

These rappers, 

Machete style, 

Choppin' down. 

Their petty style's bassin', 

All in my face. 

You got the mic, 

But I gotta getcha off it. 

You got my rhyme, 

Now cough it. 

Brother, sweat the tip and forfeit. 

You're nada, 

Know not a, 

I'm hotter. 

You're a slow trotter. 

Karate 

Switch the 'e' into an 'a,' 

And it's karata. 

When I come on 

I'm rippin it up 

Just like a madman. 

I fly your head, 

Chop off your legs, 

And make your head stand. 

Tax and wreckin' these chumps 

All of them I rub out. 

You know the time. 

What's on your mind? 

You know I never go out. 

I be breakin' bouts. 

Ya boys; 

Your block; is full of bums, see. 

You never was too clever 

Stick the fork in you, 

You're done G. 

The instrument'll rip 

With the ultimate 

Of all the rappers. 

Toe to toe. 

Whenever I go 

I guarantee 

The flow will smack ya. 

Pumpin' ya full a lead, 

Just like a nine. 

Kickin' it off in half the time. 

Takin' a break 

And makin' mine. 

You're way behind. 

Ya needed a title, 

And all the uncle 

Made your title for ya. 

Hopin', 

And prayin', 

And wishin', 

That I can't rap, 

But I rip all a y'all 

In half. 

Look at me laugh 

Ya hee-haw style. 

Ya kick it. 

Mmm, I see goodies. 

Gimme the mic and hoodie. 

Now I'll dick it. 

Any, 

The every, 

The his, 

The hers, 

Of those, 

Of theirs, 

Of them, 

I see your title 

Around your neck, 

Just swingin' loose. 

I take your gem. 

I'm takin' it off your neck 

With every line that I select, 

And wrappin' it up and cuttin'. 

While I'm starin' 

With disrespect. 

Bustin off. 

Yeah, 

Squeezin' like a vice grip, 

Blowin' ya off the stage, 

Into the crowd, 

So have a nice trip. 

I'm takin' control. 

I hold 

The microphone as good as gold. 

Fly, so many heads. 

I built my twenty-fifth 

Totem pole. 

Turnin' it out, 

And gettin' wrecked 

Is just a understatement. 

How special to rap a flat, 

Puttin' his head 

Inside the pavement. 

Burnin' 'em up, 

Just like a flame thrower. 

Rippin' 'em 

With the cool flower. 

Takin' 'em out in pairs, 

Like the man, Noah. 

Holdin' 'em up 

Just like a trophy, 

For the world to see. 

You really ain't superb, 

You see. 

You're goin' out, 

Like a girl to me. 

Takin' your little 

Boo-hoo, baby. 

Tear drop. 

Cryin' style. 

Breakin' it down 

Until there's dust, 

And I'ma vacuum up the pile. 

Showin', 

And provin', 

And groovin', 

And makin a movie 

On the mic. 

Slappin' a Marlboro 

In his mouth, 

Just like 

A dirty little tyke. 

Master of the murderous 

Maniac, 

Mad style, 

Amazin' man. 

Mackin' the mic 

Since I was just 

A mere child. 

Props and props; 

More props than Terminator 2. 

With pen and pad 

I play to you, 

And on the cross-fader too. 

Endlessly with energy, 

Undefeatable lyrically, 

Expandin' my empire. 

You don't want to test me. 

Wizard of funkadelic. 

Every album's like a relic. 

Bite the line, 

Chewin' on mine, 

But ya never live to tell it. 

Bustin' it off quick, 

Flippin the script. 

That's in the bushes, 

Then walkin' around the jam. 

I'm handin' out pounds 

And mushes. 

You're makin' a face. 

You want to test my slick maneuver? 

Your best to rock a break beat, 

Or somethin' you can groove to. 

Even if every rapper 

In the world was makin' jams, 

As soon as I set this off 

Their mics are slidin' 

Out their hands. 

Rockin' the junky's world 

With the release 

Of every single. 

Back in the days 

I told ya, 

I need a beat 

To make ya jingle. 

Overlord 

Droppin' the sword, 

And choppin off the mic cord. 

Rappers are dead 

All over the street 

In every state I toured. 

I'm dealin' the truth, 

With living god 

That's right before ya eyes. 

And I'll be rollin' 

In hoods and sneakers, 

You can keep the suit and ties. 

No sell out. 

Bet ya uncle never dies. 

Gimme that microphone, 

I'll rip it up 

Until sunrise.