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Correct The Ripper Strikes Back Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: L
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LL Cool J
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Correct The Ripper Strikes Back
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Lyrics:
We just gon have some fun with hip hop A lil hip hop... Relax, hold on to ya seats Oh yeah this is the total banger too Word up, total banger baby Hip-Hop style baby, y'all remember By the middle of March, when the pregnancy starts In your ladies' placenta, that means L just entered Duck taped your little bitch ass for frontin You poor little crackhead ass ain't hurtin nuttin Nigga you want the fame, now you're famous overnight Famous for getting fucked by a stick of dynamite You're weak nigga, you bout to die up in your sleep The overlord of rap will never meet defeat Pain and agony, I don't touch them zones Fucking everlasting lyrical methods is my throne Blast ya fifty pound ass and make you float You read it shook nigga, I wrote the book, nigga Held down my crown for a decade and a half Now I'm bout to give your grimy ass a blood bath Talk about bein broke, nigga I'm rich Cause I learned, to seperated the money from the bitch Don't hate me cause I'm paid, hate me because I'm everything you want to be: handsome, young, plus legendary Talk about Farrakhan, nigga you got to call Jesse Jackson For some Affirmative Action Chorus: repeat 4X Can-I-Bus! Yes you can! Don't ever open your mouth and mention my seeds Talk about my book you bought to read You know you watch the sitcom nigga so stop that Mad rapper, but now you turned mad actor Forty-nine pounds and tryin to be a monster Run around town with the Bob Marley imposters Ask Canibus, he ain't understandin this Cause ninety-nine percent of his fans, don't exist I'm goin underground and blowin your rep down Next time, save that shit for the Lyricist's Lounge Or a House Party, where you can battle some clown On top of all that, I beat your homeless ass down Heard that convicted rapist on the record too Fresh out of jail, ass cheeks still black and blue Tell me bout the things ear biter taught you How to bust a nut or two? (Yeah that's butta boo) You be decomposin, but you frozen because my title's stolen Steady rollin in a world that I'm controllin Vanguard awards are for Kings who get off! Clock platinum mountains, the praise of the Lord Talkin bout my first and second and third born Now I got a fourth, Canibus, but he cut off From the riches of my empire, I'm like a pimp Who thought he had to retire but found a new Canibus to hire You're hardcore, innocence like Heather Hunter But definitely not with the lyrics that drop thunder Found you in a trash can, hat black, cause you scared to bust Nigga in Todd we trust Chorus Now break it down for me! See I, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, amateur, M, C's In hip-hop, word up, no bullshit Oh I ain't done yet You soft as a newborn baby takin a nap Make my dick hard with that bitch ass track Where you at? Smokin in some one room flat Suckin on Clef's dick hopin to come back Never that, nigga my size is unlimited Yours is prohibited, of course that's contributed To not knowin ya limits and who you need to test When you step into the house of the Lord and get blessed Get on your knees, bow down to my degrees Young slacker, save that demo for Jack the Rapper You gargoyle, slash olive oil, pussycat I wrapped up in aluminum foil, ready to boil I'ma tear the skin off ya ass with ten knuckles Rhymes was weak, they made me chuckle like a name buckle You call em lyrics, nigga you need to stop You goin out --- ahh fuck it, you goin pop I feed you a poisonous verse so don't try it No more rhymin, you on a lyric fast diet Call the paramedic and tell them that he pathetic His lyrics ain't energetic you're sweet as a diabetic Career be over next year, yeah I said it Look over your shoulder nigga, where you headed Muthafucka, where's a rhyme when you need it? First rule of lyrical war, never repeat it You said that same bullshit at House of Blues Lit the pipe, dropped the match, and sparked the wrong fuse That's you, yeah nigga I'm goin at you Stop basin', and you can be a role model too Diss my moms, who's the real Rap Don? Who ruled for fifteen years and drops bombs? Who's got solid gold Grammy's that say Todd While you dropped verses at niggas' proms Faggot, you better battle number two Cause number one, got his title locked down son The King of all rappers that ever graced the stage Or the mic, best that ever did it I'm wicked Write a verse and flip it, melt it down to liquid And drown shorty, fill his lungs until I rip it Chest busts open, heart bursts and smokin You see that nigga son? (Damn L, we was only jokin) Maneuver manipulate brainwaves transform Your thought process, when my pen gets erect Warning, all mc's better retreat Look at corny-bus, he can't walk down his own street Better run and get the Fugees Cause I eat, eat, eat, mc's Devour they titles, cause I'm an idol slash icon And tell Wyclef, don't even turn his fuckin mic on Sold ya nigga, thought I told ya nigga Crossover, slam dunk, game over nigga (one more time son) Sold ya nigga, thought I told ya nigga Crossover, slam dunk, game over nigga Chorus " Now wait for the studio audience to applaud, faggot, hahahah "
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