Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rampage, artist - LL COOL J. Date of issue: 01.02.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Rampage |
| Slow down baby uhh |
| Slow down baby uhh |
| You can get rugged, though, hard like P Trying to play my man but you couldn’t touch me You faggot to comp rapper on a quest |
| You get your head flown, boy you must be smokin’ses |
| So many often wonder if MDs paid |
| You’re goddamn right, punk, stay outta my way |
| 'Cause I clock Gs while you clock Zs And I don’t smoke crack, I smoke M.C.s |
| So pick up a pen, cop a squat, and take notes |
| A rapper suffred from bleeding, sprains and slit throats |
| My style deadly psychopath or schizophrenic |
| Rapper choke like a curburetor, freeze up, and panic |
| 'Cause I clock pesos, don’t sell ileyo |
| Another name for cocaine, mi amigo |
| That’s Spanish terminology for friend |
| Now sit back and rub my bozack as I send |
| Bass funk with beats that thump |
| Kickers and amps cold lined up in my trunk |
| My system cranking, my headlights are blinkin' |
| Brother ridin’my tip, L, at the same time thinkin' |
| Damn, how could a brother be so nice |
| 'Cause I’m the capital E-P twice M-D-E twice |
| I choose to squeeze, some choose to fight |
| I like to write but then again some bite |
| While you were bangin’on tables, I was bangin’Snow White |
| Yeah slow down baby |
| The ripper, the master, the overlordian |
| Playing M.C.s like a old accordion |
| I get the inspiration from a necessary station |
| Them sayin’I was vacationin' |
| You can’t cope with your weak-ass throat |
| Tryin''a sneak a peak in while I freak the notes |
| Major M.C.s become minor B flats |
| So retire the mike, get your chains and your bats |
| Here’s your chance to advance, gettin’your stance |
| I’m 'a shoot the holster off your cowboy pants |
| Pure entertainment, tonight’s your arraignment |
| You’re quilty, face down on the pavement |
| No holds barred, it’s time to get scarred |
| You and your squad better praise the real god |
| The undertaker droppin’thunder on fakers |
| When it comes to lyrics I’m as freaky as Seka |
| So lay the mike down slow and careful |
| 'Cause mine is fully loaded and I have another handful |
| A clip to slip in and start rippin' |
| Divin’and dippin’and givin’punks a whippin' |
| Just in case you wanna go a few rounds and so |
| I’m down so that you clowns will know |
| Me gettin’burnt or hurt won’t be tolerated |
| I got rhymes up the (huh) forget it, I’m constipated |
| Yeah slow down baby |
| When I come around homeboy, watch your nugget |
| I master on the beat down, my style’s rugged |
| When I attack the microphone, close the zone |
| Rap sees danger, can’t roam |
| Security is packed and wall to wall can’t fall |
| A rap tank is full so I can’t stall |
| My microphone is filled with premium |
| Any whack M.C. |
| that flexes, I’m creamin''em |
| Not with lotion, bust the motion, flotation |
| When I’m rockin’the mike I’m like coastin' |
| Underneath fatigue at my peak |
| You still seek the style 'cause yours is extra weak |
| New method, rip the stage at my age and get loose and kick |
| Like Bruce in a rage-I'm on a rampage |
| Yeah slow down baby |
| Slow down baby |