Farmers - LL Cool J (埃勒·酷)
Written by：Edward Hinson/James Todd Smith/Benjamin Strong
Right now
I'm bout to show you how it's done you can
Shut down
Yo my Uzi weights a ton you can
Beat down
And you can pump it in your system till it
Blow out
Whatever dog no doubt I'm bout to
Smack up
Anybody who front like he
Hardcore
Don't he know I stay raw this is
Ll
Compensation they fell because I Do this
Bringing drama and truth Cuz I don't
Play that
And I be reepin up cash since
Way back
Put your honey on my lap and make her
Heat up
Got her begging me to beat it up
Raw dog
Throw your wacky on the floor straight
Kill that
Have her gargling nuts until I
Spill that
You better play like en vogue and
Hold on
You wanna battle set it off baby
Come on
Come one come on come on
F because my flavor's the best
A I get my hustle off all day
R reck my block knee all far
M I gotta hold it down wit my man
E big up to my ni**a e love
R keep the ill rims on the car
S I reaped it what more can I say son
Farmers what
Farmers what
Murder
Little niggas getting money on the
Hot block
He got the chrome sh*t spinning up on
Linden
Look at the ice and leather the way it
Bleeding
Pass the spit hot linden from here to
Mary
You think you hot cool Jane ever
Here it
And when it comes to this I'm not a
Soldier
I'm a general crack king
I told ya
I proved I'm the greatest rapper ni**a
What now
Tell your man step up then watch he
Go down
Game one do or die like
Bedside
Nobody even coming close ni**a
Why try
From the Bronx to Shao Lin to
Uptown
Like buckshot said ni**a
Duck down
You better play like en vogue and
Hold on
You know I'm going out ni**a
Come on
Come on come one come on
F because my flavor's the best
A I get my hustle off all day
R reck my block knee all far
M I gotta hold it down wit my man
E big up to my ni**a e love
R keep the ill rims on the car
S I reaped it what more can I say son
Farmers what
Farmers what
No doubt
I'll take your block and air it out stay
Ice out
Me and my man little sharp in the
Double r
Whole block lined up wit all the
Hot cars
Ni**a never be afraid you gotta
Get paid
No matter what I do I keep it
Sexy
Me and my team spending cream on the
Club scene
On performance boulevard out in
Killa queens
This joint knocked in the tunnel bout
One o'clock
They like them raw not the watered down
Hip hop
The broad money and alah zay it
Don't stop
Niggas stumbling and falling off a
Head ride
When I'm going to bedshaw
Remember me
I'm the greast em cee there could
Ever be
You better call def jam and tell 'em
Hold on
Cuz another major label told me
Come on
Come on come on come on
F because my flavor's the best
A I get my hustle off all day
R reck my block knee all far
M I gotta hold it down wit my man
E big up to my ni**a e love
R keep the ill rims on the car
S I reaped it what more can I say son
Farmers what
Farmers what
