| Classic, uh, uh, uh
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| I’d like to welcome ya’ll to Exit 13
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| My name is LL Cool J
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| AKA the GOAT
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| R. Leslie on the track, uh, uh, uh
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| I told ya’ll that I would make a killing
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| I told ya’ll I blow like Mount St. Helen’s
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| I told ya’ll I’m the truth, they paint me like a villain
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| Sick on paper, the inch to penicillin
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| I told ya’ll the real, they started catching feelings
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| Muthafuck 'em all, throw ya L’s to the ceiling
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| Cool J, still hotter than a helicopter crashing in lava
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| Still sweeter to the ladies than a box of Godiva
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| Music industry is like a game of cops and robbers
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| Too many Indians, no chiefs to follow
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| What I’m sowing today, I be reaping tomorrow
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| So here’s some joyful bars, to replace your sorrow
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| I’m beyond a legend, I’m iconic
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| Fall off, rebuild, your man’s bionic
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| Put your trust in me, I never let you down
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| I always come up with a way to checkmate these clowns
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| I effeminate these clowns, trynna take me down
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| Ask Puffy and Nas, who 'hates me now'
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| The Phenomenon, ladies love the don
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| I give 'em an ear-gasm, they can’t keep calm
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| (Chorus: LL Cool J)
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| Old school, new school, need to learn though
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| I burn baby burn like disco inferno
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| Old school, new school, need to learn though
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| I burn baby burn like disco inferno
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| I told ya’ll that I was coming back
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| I told ya’ll I ain’t going out like that
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| I told ya’ll I was the greatest to ever rap
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| And I built Def Jam and took a piss on the map
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| I told ya’ll, I wasn’t like the other cats
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| I’m fresh like a Wii, them niggas playing jacks
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| They all a bunch of a rats, they copying off 2Pac's stats
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| Wearing tuxedos to hide they tight speedo
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| Chains is tucked in, I’m incognito
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| Fuck with your ego, and touch your girl’s labito
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| There will never be one flyer, LL Cool J
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| Taking you higher and higher
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| The wire, the GOAT, the grand sire
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| Who good are 24's if you on flat tires
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| Telling your soul and then performing with a choir
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| People, please, don’t listen to these liars
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| Ladies and gentlemen, these, niggas is selling you up
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| Bunch of irrelevant shit, it’s not intelligent, is it?
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| My shit’s exquisite, don’t follow the yellow brick road
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| Them niggas faking like the Wizard
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| Is it really possible I’m this hot?
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| LL Cool J, still on top?
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| 24 years, I ain’t forget the block
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| You can ask my Jay in the shop
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| Linden Boulevard, little Coupe, big rocks
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| Real estate only, I ain’t fucking with the stocks
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| Why not, so our grandkids could feed they grandkids
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| And they grandkids, can feed they damn kids
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| And Collin Park throw ya hands in the air
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| Jump before I turn 'em in a Cool J affair
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| My word is my bond, every summer I’m there
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| Ya’ll can jump double dutch while I’m laying in the cut
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| I told ya’ll I wasn’t giving up
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| I told ya’ll, I can jump on tracks and switch the rhythm up
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| Do work, treat rap like a ripped skirt
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| Sow it up, rep your hood, nigga, throw it up
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| You’d been standing by my side for years
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| Sold out concerts, screams and cheers
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| Front row T-Shirt, L, we here
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| I bought every album, too many to count 'em
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| Watch your movies, your the only good thing about 'em
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| Todd Smith jeans, I can’t live without 'em
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| And the only thing I want from you
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| Is for you to keep doing that shit you do |