LL Cool J Where I Belong

What's Beef?



Hear It!



As far as Canibus go, my man is hittin' his ex-broad

I'm getting head from his new piece While 20 gang-bangers applaud,

you came up with that bullshit Some heads sucked it up,

then you dropped that garbage album And Totally fucked it up,

I coulda told ya I knew your moms From the after-hours spot,

when I used to be up in Canada With the dreads on a black block,

before you dick rode Lost Boyz For a ticket our to Jersey,

but being the man I am I tried to show ya mercy,

I coulda told the World The way ya label hates your guts

And how me and Wyclef, got together to set you up

And how he gave me half your budget, don't believe me look it up

Ya A&R promotion niggas, they helped me hook it up

I hate to be responsible, for destroying your career

A one-hit wonder, huh No Wonder you disappeared,

I coulda told the world You get your lyrics from the internet

Then spit 'em word for word Like you really a rap vet,

How you take metaphors from books And put 'em in your rhymes,

and how you really from Canada And you been frontin' all this time

I heard your second album, that shit is garbage too

LL Cool J and I did this to you

On that note he said

"Yo L, you the man", I said peace, one love

And Drove off in the Lex Land


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2 Pac Shakur If I Die 2Nite

Hear it!


They say pussy and paper is poetry power and pistols

Plottin on murderin motherfuckers 'fore they get you

Picturin pitiful punk niggaz coppin pleas

Puffin weed as I position myself to clock G's

My enemies scatter in suicidal situations

Never to witness the wicked shit that they was facin

Pockets is packed with presidents, pursue your riches

Evadin the playa hatin tricks, while hittin switches

Bitches is bad-mouth, cause brawlin motherfuckers is bold

But y'all some hoes, the game should be sewed

I'm sick of psychotic society somebody save me

Addicted to drama so even mama couldn't raise me

Even the preacher and all my teachers couldn't reach me

I run in the streets and puffin weed wit my peeps

I'm duckin the cop, I hit the weed as I'm clutchin my glock

Niggaz is hot when I hit the block, what if I die tonight.

Classic

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Inspectah Deck Triumph

I bomb atomically,
Socrates' philosophies and hypothesis
can't define how I be droppin these
mockeries,
lyrically perform armed robbery
Flee with the lottery,
possibly they spotted me
Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits tremendous,
ultra-violet shine blind forensics
I inspect you, through the future see millenium
Killa B's sold fifty gold sixty platinum
Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths
Black Wu jackets queen B's ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly
Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock
Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block


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Pharoahe Monch Oh No

Very contagious raps should be trapped in cages
Through stages of wackness, Pharoahe's raps are blazin
And it amazes - me how you claim thug
but go two-ways without SkyTel pagers
I'm intellectual, pass more essays/ese's
than motorcade police parades through East L.A.
More beef then deli's, thus what I vent is just
What you lust to vent is irrele'
Huh, hallelujah, Pharoahe Monch'll do ya
Maintain the same frame of mind - screw ya!
Get the picture, sit ya, seat ya, preacher with scriptures
I'm equipped to rip ya, reach ya
Pharoahe and Mos is verbal osmosis
Coast to coast, we boast to be the most explosive here
Ferocious, the lyrical prognosis
The dosage is leavin you mentally unfocused here
MC's just - come on 'round
You're the next contestants on "Catch-A-Beat-Down"
Don't be hesitant, sound cracks the sediment
It's evident we medicine for your whole town
Sky's the limit, game's infinite when I'm in it
All windows is tinted, how you seein me when I'm in it?
Rap, we got it on lock man, stop that
Put that mic back down, boy, drop that
Pharoahe's flows blows shows like afros
We hate y'all though, that's why Nate Dogg goes:


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Kanye West Livin' A Movie

They call me Edward Scissorhands cuz i'm tryin to cut

She claim she got cramps, im gone get you to suck

And you not gon use ya teeth ya hear?

You gon find out What Lies Beneath right here

The Preachers Wife dont give head? Get a divorce man

The kids been callin you the headless horseman

Like Sleepy Hollow see she swallow

Suck like ol girl got booed at Apollo

13 Ghost use my Hollow Mans for Friday 13th

You be Ghost, Backdraft from the toast

Niggaz who drop names is, oh so shameless

Get a chain thats stainless, they Almost Famous

My bling got em callin me, Lord Of The Rings

The Shining make it hard for her to Do The Right Thing

But I Dont Say Word, I'll never tell

Until you get a Kanye beat, you'll never sell




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Redman Tear It Off

Try to O.K. Corral with Doc and Meth Tical

Bar saloon fight, without weapons out (YEE-HAH!!)

Strech marks, like belly on Kevin Lyles

One yard to score, only second down

Hoes play wifey, wanna settle down

Tryin to lock cash, bitch better bounce

Boyfriend jump in, Meth shut him down

Pound to echo loud, bout seven miles

Doc, Dirty Jersey hunt em down

Uncut, rhymes won't even fit the file

Baddest man out the bunch, pick him out

Drunk with a gun, miss you hit the crowd

Snitches, someone kiss to stitch your mouth

Wilder then winos on liquor droughts

Mrs. Howell, Mary-Ann, dig em out

Ginger watch, with the gun in Skipper mouth

Love Da Ruckus, and love to dish it out

Pre-washed MC's, start rinsin out

Get your whole camp put on the missin file

Pushin twelve out, bumpin digital



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Cee-Lo In Da Wind

Yo, why is this cat harmonizing on all his joints these days? Cee-lo was the sickest member of Goodie Mob, and had one of the most ridiculous, animated flows ever. I'm saying, he blew the spot on many his features, but this flow made me forget that Big Boi rhymed on this record. That is NOT an easy task. Hell, I forgot that it was Trick Daddy's song for a minute. Word to Gnarls Barkley, they say he's crazy, I say he's sick.


Hardcore with the con-con, Valor to the floor

He Lo the impure, with the loaded four-four

Be sure and acquire more 'fore ya fuck with mine

Disrespect; I'll disconnect ya line

With a sick squad, when shit's hot, ya get shot

The fire, the fury, ya fuck with it not

Ya stoppin the grace, get out my space and my - face

Fore me and my ace-a lay down the whole place

Recognize, this is the verbalize

Surprise, fuckin with me wrong way to wise nigga

Hoes, clothes, shows, Vogues, golds

Big ol' bankrolls, that's all a nigga know

Throw yo' elbows, I'm sicker than I suppose

Hoes unchose, cuz my jewelry froze

You know how it goes, these young niggaz don't want it like this

Go off and get yo' gat, to silence the chit-chat, blast!

So pass, outlast, bout cash

Mo' sicky, talk tricky to the trick like trash

Lo realer, a go-rilla, flow for mo' scrilla

Come clean, lookin mean, but you ain't no killa!


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