Kool G. Rap And Dj Polo - Letters Lyrics
What are you going to do? (2x)Nigga!The k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p lettersMy mic sound nice, check oneThe k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p lettersSound nice (cut and scratched)[kool g. rap]Rougher than gotti, in toneGot a body harder than flintstoneYour girl got her skins bonedIm diggin her down with my skintoneIts brown-er than bobby cause humpin is my hobbyDown in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moanListen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney? ? I break, bang zoom, like honeymoonersI dont want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappersThe wickeder rapper the dapper rappers when I flap my trapperGot that ass gassed by amoco, you know you aint man to goDead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoeI dont give a heck, but I dont peck on a redneckYou wanna pull cards, youre a dead deck, bed checkLead my from tec, come and step up and get your head redWait a sec, you comin to see whats left?I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayedOr played like jeff to the leftAnd none of you nitwits can get with this hit shitYou dipstics, even miss kiss, but no lipstickI dont run a style but a mile to bust a childBig ol snappy happy rappers smile like gomer pyleHell, Im ringin bells with a ding-dongI play you like ping-pongYou swingin on my ding-a-long king kongI pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habitBing bing bang, just like the ricochet rapidGrab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybeYoure old as grady, still in the 80s, metaphors born in haitiI pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocksWhenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shopYou name your best Ill say, who, like owlsPass me a towel, and ima move my bowels all over his vowelsBring ten men, then Ill send my venom in emYou aint gonna win em cause he got a womens momentumAnd I dont wanna hear from this queerCause one of these niggaz just doesnt belong hereMy rhymes are like the nine millimeter berettaCause anything rappers could do yo I could do it betterThe k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p lettersMy mic sound nice, check twoThe k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p lettersSound nice (cut and scratched)You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joyMy lyrical skills give me pillsbury doughboyBack, Im packin em up like jack the ripperSome pallyll Im pullin the zipperFinger popped, the better the batter or flipperYoure out of date, you must be the late show, I hate thosePuttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get maacoDead-on, head-on collision, bad decisionYou wanna see me nigga you better check your visionIt aint 20/20 money silly bunny your funnyYour assll get smashed just like a crash test dummyRetire, an mc that oscar meyer could takeSome of you wacky rappers just play anywayThats b-o-l-o-g-n-aSo come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurtHey hey hey! should I say its fatter than albertPlay at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groupsTurnin cold, better go and sip on some swiss missInner city, actin like bitties, youre *****So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoes tittiesCross at the green not in between or get hit gRed light, green light, one two threeOut for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me passfore crash, now that ass is in a bodycastEverytime I put out my records and tapesMother*****ers go bananas like this was planet of the apesGrapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, *****es purchase ticketsTo ride the dick and sit down it like a greyhoundDown with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiersSee niggaz, you aint even magilla guerillasBass in your face, stingin like maceIm bringin the right taste, hangin like waistPick up the pace
