Yeah.

See, I know how I get down.

Word up.

It's so hot.

It's LL's version of the East Coast chronic.

Smoke till your lungs collapse.

You supposed to be the nigga where all the drama at.

So ironic, Elle came back, flooded the market Got your men's on the wall, hole in his blunt, too fucked up to spark it

Show me a nigga who can do like I do Then gas your mans up so I can rip that nigga too Braggin' you goin' platinum like that shit brand new I was platinum in what the fuck wrong with you?

What you call rocks to me is minerals.

Tried to throw salt on my name, shit's political.

The baddest man on the planet.

So ill when I'm spitting, niggas take it for granted.

Cram to understand it.

I'm switching right and left handed.

Heat my pinky ring up and leave your bitch branded.

Got a voice like a cannon, niggas shoot.

I don't think you really hot.

Your career's a fluke.

I'm the best MC that ever touched a pen.

Take a look at what I'm doing.

It will not be done again.

It shows I am the descendant of former slaves.

I'ma resurrect brothers from they mental grave.

Make them confess.

LL's the most rugged.

God, no man's above it.

Gotta love it.

Get this bread, use it infrared.

Fuck the industry, it's all about me.

You ain't going raw.

L said it's puffin' on the fly.

That's right.

Get this bread, use it infrared.

Fuck the industry, it's all about me.

You ain't going raw.

E said it's puffin' on the fly.

E-dub on the microphone, droppin' bombs Spots get blown, so why would you assume my style wouldn't bloom When I rap, rock MCs vacate the room Cause they suck, and that's how I feel I'ma smack down the A&R who signed the deal The rap round his neck, yo, reel the wheel So next time he know how the real feel Get loose and rap, hand round the steel Leave you in the truck, rap round your wheel But you're up front like I ain't it

And every rapper y'all like Sample my shit Name one I'm nice And there's no mistakin' I threw a ball rhyme In the hands of Troy Aikman My track record

is out there gone.

E.T.

like maybe I should phone home.

I'm known for the dome banger.

Dropping this song of mine right now in the club and it's danger.

Scarface E.L.L.

Cool.

J.

Never heard it spit this way, hey Get this bread, use the infrared Fuck the industry, it's all about You ain't going, L said it, puffin' on a That's right Get this bread, use the infrared Fuck the industry, it's all about You ain't going, the face said it, puffin' on a You a trash ass nigga, slash garbage ass robber

you switch from the raw to a chart club and now your is blowing out the stores and next month you finna go out on the tour but

Count.

Five.

Four.

The records ain't selling no more.

Damn.

You can spit your money galore, buying all this stupid shit that your money can't afford.

Trying to keep up with the trendies.

Minked out in all fendies.

Bought your homeboy a brand new Bentley and the well that wouldn't run dry is now empty and simple.

Cause you wasn't focused on the next day and the next day you can't give it away.

I send this to these niggas trying to keep up with the Joneses.

Everything you see me in, I own.

I've been quietly selling chains for years.

So let's get that clear.

You might have sold a few more takes, but realistically, are you that great?

Nah.

Can't get respect, but I pay dudes.

Stood on the block, slinging cooked up rocks.

I'm the same dude.

Been the same nigga since I came through.

Don't rate me too.

Damn fool.