4,3,2,1

Like, "Yo, how many rhymes you got?"

I could go on for more Millenias than Mazda's got on the car lot

And there's nowhere to run ta, when I confront ya

Nigga, I call your bluff like it had a phone number

Who wanna see Canibus get wild?

Who wanna act fly and get shot down with a surface-to-air missile

I take 'em on in all shapes, sizes, and forms

And spit on, anybody who ain't close enough to shit on

Zero to sixty? I'm already doin' a hunnid

When I'm blunted, and I give it to any nigga that want it

Stay out the dark, 'cause if I catch you when the sun is down

Run it clown, come up off that, or I'm gon' gun it down

Run it now, however it's gonna go, it's gon' be that

See that, that shit'll finish you dog, believe that

Where we at, do your value your life, as much

As your possessions? Don't be a stupid nigga, learn a lesson

I'm gon' get you either way, and it's better to live

Let me get what's up in your sock, 'cause it's better to give

Than receive, believe what I say when I tell ya

Don't make me put you somewhere, where nobody could smell ya

And when the lights is out, they don't come back on

This ain't a flick, you ain't gon' come back on, you ain't that strong

You knew it was wrong, but you asked for it baby

You's a big nigga, ski mask for it baby

So I can hit you up on front street, thinkin' I'm sweet?

Want heat? One deep, leave him behind, front seat

Ayo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven

Blaze the hot trizack

Shine like heaven

Seven, six, five, four, to three, two, one

Come on Mr. Smith, come get some!

When young sons fantasize of borrowing flows

Tell little shorty with the big mouth the bank is closed (ha, word up)

The symbol on my arm is off limits to challengers

You hold the rusty swords, I swing the Excalibur

How dare you step up in my dimension (uh-huh)

Your little ass should be somewhere cryin' on detention

Watch your mouth, better yet, hold your tongue

I'mma do this shit for free this time, this one's for fun

Blow you to pieces, leave you covered in feces

With one thesis (L.L. Cool J. is hard)

Every little boy wanna pick up the mic

And try to run with the big boys and live up to the real hype

But that's like pickin' up a ball, playin' with Mike

Swingin' at Ken Griffey, or challengin' Roy to a fight

Stop it, you're amateur emcees

Don't you know I'm like the Dream Team tourin' overseas

For rappers in my circle I'm a deadly disease

Ringmaster, bringin' a tiger cub to his knees (uhh)

In the history of rap they've never seen such prominence

Your naive confidence gets crushed by my dominance (word up)

Now let's get back to this mic on my arm

If it ever left my side it'd transform into a time bomb

You don't wanna borrow that, you wanna idolize

And you don't wanna make me mad nigga, you wanna socalize

And I'm daring every emcee in the game

To play yourself out position, and mention my name

I make a rhyme for every syllable in your name

Go platinum for every time your grimy ass was on the train

Watch your mouth, don't ever step out of line

L.L. Cool J. nigga, greatest of all time