Straight From Queens Lyrics by L.l. Cool J

Straight From Queens Lyrics

    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
    F***in '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
    Machetti 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 nota
    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 9
    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 yall
    In half
    Look at me laugh
    Ya hee-haw style
    Ya kick it
    Mmmmm 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 you neck
    With every line that i select
    And rappin 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 is 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 wanna 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 wanna test my slick manuever?
    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 mic's 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

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