Hey yo, check dis dope ass beat out Willie back in da muthafuckin house and I got my niggas Da menace clan on dis one to help me out And we representin
landlord, your fuckin rent due Chorus: Clans, posses, crews and kliks All y'all bitch niggaz can suck my dick Kliks, posses, crews and clans Can't none
crumbling to the ground And my grandfather's rolling Rolling in his grave If you had a tattoo, that wouldn't matter If you had a shaved head, that would be cool
It was cool in the fifties scattin' to jazz and be-bop It was the sound they were throwin' down From LA to New York and in every town And with the rhythm
meds higha dan Angel pon heaven's wire, Burn dem wit di hell's fyah, Wah prostitute and virgin have in common? Empire! Dem waan come inna mi bed fi cool
crideam Everytime you see me see me biggin up my teaming on the dream of winning trying to make crideam Thugged out even when you catch me in the cuisine my clan
him? No information, say yes or no One point five million Alright, you get what you want, money's no object They're all clean, no serial numbers, untraceable And there are explosive head
Man listen, pissin in the same pot I'm pissin You're goin down, get in that plane crash position Turbulence ahead, boy you must be sick in the head Go
time it is, get 'em up [Primo] Right you are [Foxxx] You a true underground head you know what this mean right here baby This ain't motherfuckin LL Cool
No information, say yes or no One point five million Alright, you get what you want - money's no object They're all clean, no serial numbers, untraceable And there are explosive head
what a gwaan These are the things righteous people a scorn Prophets a ring the alarm Tell the heads of government fi cool and fi calm And if you live
know my name, Yo Puffy..., [Burn 'em in the flames] [You're jingling baby] (Go 'head daddy) [You're jingling baby] (Go 'head daddy) LL COOL J'S VERSE
York Angie Martinez Grandmixer DST, yeah, Grandwizard Theodore Grandmaster Flash, I'm a take it all the way back Run-D.M.C., LL Cool J, Ralph McDaniels
Music & Lyrics by Alan Paul & Les Pierce It was cool in the fifties scattin' to jazz and be-bop It was the sound they were throwin' down From LA to New
head off Keep on gunnin' cuz of what they said Punk, I'll put a slug in your bald head Scalp a skinhead quick And your greasy-ass triple clan and shit
-T] Yo, Yo, MC Ice on a Syndicate Rhyme spree You say you wanna be down, you gotta talk to me You wanna get in? Put a sucker's head out Sound a little
? Run's house! [Run] Ah, once again my friend Not a trend for then They said, rap was crap But never had this band Till the ruler came With a cooler