Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Came To Party, artist - LL COOL J. Date of issue: 25.04.2013
Song language: English
We Came To Party |
| I just wanna make sweet love to you, baby, you know what I’m saying? |
| I just wanna touch you all over… aw, please! |
| We came to party, we came to party |
| We came to party, we came to party |
| We came to party, we came to party |
| Hey look, I’ve got my hands all on your body |
| Ain’t no problem, I’m on it — oldest man in the club |
| Also one of the richest, a hundred bottles of bub |
| It’s just me and the Russians, we get all of the love |
| They was aware of the image, they wanna see what he does |
| TMZ in my face, Oprah all on my couch |
| Now I’m hosting the Grammys, what is this all about? |
| International baller, I must admit I had doubts |
| If they wasn’t callin' me back, they was callin' me out |
| Game moved to the South, I just closed my mouth |
| Intellect like Belichick when he be switching the routes |
| I’m too old for the games, no time for the lames |
| Next challenge? |
| Get this generation screaming my name |
| Who could do what I did? |
| Boy, I must be the shit |
| Waved 106 & Park to play date with the kids |
| People texting my wife, tryna ruin my night |
| So I help ‘em mind they business with some bottles on ice |
| Destruction in the club |
| Oh, no… Big Snoop Dogg |
| Ice so cold you can see it through the fog |
| To walk in my shoes it’ll be a little jog |
| And if you step by the pockets, you gon' be up in the morgue |
| The peoples is peepin', peepin' |
| The bitches is dippin', dippin' |
| So this is the mission, listen, I turn this shit up |
| It’s the party-rocking, nonstopping, four-hopping, rip and rock |
| Drippin' in this motherfucker, burn up, now turn up! |
| We ain’t flirtin', we talkin' - we ain’t dancin', we walkin' |
| Teenagers is pointin', couple cougars are hawkin' |
| I don’t come here that often, but it’s totally awesome |
| When you livin' for real, I don’t consider it flossin' |
| Panty lines are crossin', I’m proceedin' with caution |
| I don’t shit where I eat, gotta manage your portions |
| LL Cool J, I’m like the old-school orphan |
| Representing alone, sittin' on factory chrome |
| Shades on, in the zone — Kool Aid smile on my face |
| My security’s strapped, ain’t no beef, just in case |
| Me and my man Rich Whites, we in Vegas tonight |
| Claudine on the celly, make sure that money is right |
| Red carpet and tuxes, always where the bucks is |
| Paparazzi are snapping, I can’t believe this is happening |
| Frustrating the haters, they’re so sick of me rapping |
| I’m enjoying your blog, I’ve got the same type of passion |
| Fatman Scoop, Maserati Cool J |
| They ain’t think I can do it, that’s why I had to debut it |
| And let the critics review it, that way I spit and it’s Buicks |
| Since the beginning, I knew it — rollin' an L in the Buick |
| Had the guts to pursue it, that’s how a legend should do it |