Quantcast
bop.fmbeta
x
radio-label playlist-label
bop.fm

Select a Service

YouTube
SoundCloud

Open In

Spotify
Beats
Rdio
YouTube
SoundCloud

Buy

Amazon
iTunes
Google Play

Select a Store

Amazon
iTunes
Google Play

User

‹ Back
Favorites
Playlists
Feedback? Chat with us!
Sign Out
Playlists
(Hit return to send)

Submit Song Description

Submit Please enter a description.
Thank You! Our administrators will review your description.
I'm sorry an error has occurred. Please try again later.

!Tap the YouTube play button above

Previous
Previous
Play/Pause Next
Next
Rdio Beats Spotify Youtube SoundCloud
  Repeat Repeat 0:00 Like
 
All
Artists
Songs
Playlists
Close
Search results for Search history Start typing...
LL Cool J

Straight From Queens

LL Cool J

  • On Facebook
  • On Twitter
  • Embed this song
  • On iTunes
  • On Amazon
  • On Google
  • Add to playlist
  • Import playlist
  • Unlike
  • Start radio from this
  • Embed this song
Song Information
Straight From Queens
Released:
About This Song & Song Lyrics

About "Straight From Queens" by LL Cool J

About

LL Cool J – Straight From Queens Lyrics

Lyrics

Uncle
Rippin' the microphone
And blowin the stage apart.
These MC's ain't got no heart,
They need to quit before they start.
Shakin' and breakin' 'em down.
Best at least.
Fuckin' 'em up, up at least.
Smackin' 'em in a pilek.
Now have a stomp and a smile, G.
Raisin'
Replacin'
Like Jason.
When I be chasin'
These rappers,
Machete style,
Choppin' down.
Their petty style's bassin',
All in my face.
You got the mic,
But I gotta getcha off it.
You got my rhyme,
Now cough it.
Brother, sweat the tip and forfeit.
You're nada,
Know not a,
I'm hotter.
You're a slow trotter.
Karate
Switch the 'e' into an 'a,'
And it's karata.
When I come on
I'm rippin it up
Just like a madman.
I fly your head,
Chop off your legs,
And make your head stand.
Tax and wreckin' these chumps
All of them I rub out.
You know the time.
What's on your mind?
You know I never go out.
I be breakin' bouts.
Ya boys;
Your block; is full of bums, see.
You never was too clever
Stick the fork in you,
You're done G.

The instrument'll rip
With the ultimate
Of all the rappers.
Toe to toe.
Whenever I go
I guarantee
The flow will smack ya.
Pumpin' ya full a lead,
Just like a nine.
Kickin' it off in half the time.
Takin' a break
And makin' mine.
You're way behind.
Ya needed a title,
And all the uncle
Made your title for ya.
Hopin',
And prayin',
And wishin',
That I can't rap,
But I rip all a y'all
In half.
Look at me laugh
Ya hee-haw style.
Ya kick it.
Mmm, I see goodies.
Gimme the mic and hoodie.
Now I'll dick it.
Any,
The every,
The his,
The hers,
Of those,
Of theirs,
Of them,
I see your title
Around your neck,
Just swingin' loose.
I take your gem.
I'm takin' it off your neck
With every line that I select,
And wrappin' it up and cuttin'.
While I'm starin'
With disrespect.
Bustin off.
Yeah,
Squeezin' like a vice grip,
Blowin' ya off the stage,
Into the crowd,
So have a nice trip.

I'm takin' control.
I hold
The microphone as good as gold.
Fly, so many heads.
I built my twenty-fifth
Totem pole.
Turnin' it out,
And gettin' wrecked
Is just a understatement.
How special to rap a flat,
Puttin' his head
Inside the pavement.
Burnin' 'em up,
Just like a flame thrower.
Rippin' 'em
With the cool flower.
Takin' 'em out in pairs,
Like the man, Noah.
Holdin' 'em up
Just like a trophy,
For the world to see.
You really ain't superb,
You see.
You're goin' out,
Like a girl to me.
Takin' your little
Boo-hoo, baby.
Tear drop.
Cryin' style.
Breakin' it down
Until there's dust,
And I'ma vacuum up the pile.
Showin',
And provin',
And groovin',
And makin a movie
On the mic.
Slappin' a Marlboro
In his mouth,
Just like
A dirty little tyke.
Master of the murderous
Maniac,
Mad style,
Amazin' man.
Mackin' the mic
Since I was just
A mere child.
Props and props;
More props than Terminator 2.
With pen and pad
I play to you,
And on the cross-fader too.
Endlessly with energy,
Undefeatable lyrically,
Expandin' my empire.
You don't want to test me.

Wizard of funkadelic.
Every album's like a relic.
Bite the line,
Chewin' on mine,
But ya never live to tell it.
Bustin' it off quick,
Flippin the script.
That's in the bushes,
Then walkin' around the jam.
I'm handin' out pounds
And mushes.
You're makin' a face.
You want to test my slick maneuver?
Your best to rock a break beat,
Or somethin' you can groove to.
Even if every rapper
In the world was makin' jams,
As soon as I set this off
Their mics are slidin'
Out their hands.
Rockin' the junky's world
With the release
Of every single.
Back in the days
I told ya,
I need a beat
To make ya jingle.
Overlord
Droppin' the sword,
And choppin off the mic cord.
Rappers are dead
All over the street
In every state I toured.
I'm dealin' the truth,
With living god
That's right before ya eyes.
And I'll be rollin'
In hoods and sneakers,
You can keep the suit and ties.
No sell out.
Bet ya uncle never dies.
Gimme that microphone,
I'll rip it up
Until sunrise.

SONGWRITERS:
SMITH, JAMES TODD / WILLIAMS, MARLON LU'REE / STARKS, JOHN H / BROWN, JAMES
Powered and licensed by LyricFind
Song Info
By: LL Cool J
Released:
Loading Embed...
Close

Embed This Song

Embed This Playlist

Embed This Artist

Click to copy embed code
Copy

By using this embed code you agree to these Terms.

bop.fm
Close

Create Playlist

Create
Close

Edit this playlist

Save
Close

Import Playlist

? Import

Desktop

Right-click on the playlist title and select "Copy HTTP Link"

Web

Right-click on the playlist title and select "Copy Spotify URL"

Desktop and Web

Push the button from playlist page.
Copy the link located near the icon in the upper right corner of the pop-up window.
Close

Submit Song Description

Submit Please enter a description.
Thank You! Our administrators will review your description.
I'm sorry an error has occurred. Please try again later.
Close

Report a bad song match

Thanks! We will review and update shortly.
I'm sorry an error has occurred. Please try again later.