4, 3, 2, 1 Lyrics
| Song | 4, 3, 2, 1 |
| Artist | LL Cool J |
| Album | Phenomenon |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : King Ad Rock, MCA, Noble ... | |
| Aiyyo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven | |
| Blaze the hot trizack that sound like heaven | |
| Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one | |
| My mon methtical come and get some | |
| Playin' my position, hot | |
| NixonThis one, for all the sick ones, conflict ion | |
| Poisonous darts sickenin', best believe | |
| Finger itchin' with two broke legs, now | |
| I’m trippin | |
| On Mc’s cliche, shot that ricochets | |
| Start trouble bust bubbles, hip to wicked ways | |
| Gotta love me, | |
| God no one above me | |
| Look good but fuck ugly, tap your jaw | |
| From my punch buggy sunnin' you | |
| Got you shittin' in your last huggie, runnin' who? | |
| Fuckin' punk, get a speed bump comin' through | |
| A single shot make your knees knock, respect wu | |
| Aiyyo I put it on a nigga, shit it on a nigga | |
| Turnin' Christian to a certified sinner | |
| The bomb I release, time pent up | |
| While you got set up | |
| I was hittin' your ex hoe | |
| Shit I kept low, petro’ your metro | |
| Politic, keep the chicken heads gobblin' | |
| Shit I’m drivin' in, come with funk halogen | |
| Terrorize your city, from the spliff committee | |
| Kick ass till both timberlands turn shitty | |
| Gritty, smack the driver’s head in the chin' see | |
| When I approach rappers be takin' notes | |
| I drop like | |
| I shoulda invented the raincoat | |
| Absolute, | |
| I love to burn to the roots | |
| I keep comin' til your pour sperm from your boots | |
| Vigilante hardcore to the penis | |
| Tell you fuck you my attitude is anemic | |
| I’m the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it | |
| I snatch your crown witcha head still attached to it | |
| Canibus is the type who’ll fight for mics | |
| Beatin' niggaz to death and beatin' dead niggaz to life | |
| When you look at me long enough, | |
| I start to read your thoughts | |
| If the signal was strong enough, and then | |
| I’ll call your bluff | |
| Like, yo, how many rhymes you got? | |
| I think I’ll go on | |
| For more millenniums 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 you 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 hundred | |
| 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 | |
| When in doubt, however skull goes, it’s gon’ be that | |
| See that, that shit’ll finish you dawg, believe that | |
| Where we at, do your value your life, as much as your possessions? | |
| Don’t be a stupid niggs, learn a lesson | |
| I’m gon’ get you either way, and it’s better to live | |
| Let me get what’s between your sock, cause it’s, better to give | |
| Than receive, believe what | |
| I say when | |
| I tell you | |
| Don’t make me put your somewhere where nobody’ll smell you | |
| 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’se a pink nigga, ski mask for it, baby | |
| So I can hit you up on front teeth, you think | |
| I’m sweet? | |
| Want heat? | |
| One deep, leave him behind, front seat | |
| Aiyyo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven | |
| Blaze the hot trizack that sound like heaven | |
| Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one | |
| My mon methtical come and get some | |
| When young sons fantasize of borrowing flows | |
| Tell little | |
| Shorty with the big mouth the bank is closed, yeah, word up | |
| The symbol on my arm is off limits to challengers | |
| You hold the rusty swords | |
| I swing the | |
| ExcaliburHow dare you step up in my dimension | |
| Your little ass should be somewhere cryin' on detention | |
| Watch your mouth better yet hold your tongue | |
| I’ma do this shit for free this time this one’s for fun | |
| Blow you to pieces, leave you covered in feces | |
| With one thesis, | |
| LL 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 | |
| MikeSwingin' at | |
| Ken Griffey or challengin' | |
| Roy to a fight | |
| Snappin, you amateur mc’s | |
| 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 | |
| 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 socialize | |
| And I’m daring every mc 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 | |
| LL Cool J nigga, greatest of all time |
| zuo ci : King Ad Rock, MCA, Noble ... | |
| Aiyyo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven | |
| Blaze the hot trizack that sound like heaven | |
| Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one | |
| My mon methtical come and get some | |
| Playin' my position, hot | |
| NixonThis one, for all the sick ones, conflict ion | |
| Poisonous darts sickenin', best believe | |
| Finger itchin' with two broke legs, now | |
| I' m trippin | |
| On Mc' s cliche, shot that ricochets | |
| Start trouble bust bubbles, hip to wicked ways | |
| Gotta love me, | |
| God no one above me | |
| Look good but fuck ugly, tap your jaw | |
| From my punch buggy sunnin' you | |
| Got you shittin' in your last huggie, runnin' who? | |
| Fuckin' punk, get a speed bump comin' through | |
| A single shot make your knees knock, respect wu | |
| Aiyyo I put it on a nigga, shit it on a nigga | |
| Turnin' Christian to a certified sinner | |
| The bomb I release, time pent up | |
| While you got set up | |
| I was hittin' your ex hoe | |
| Shit I kept low, petro' your metro | |
| Politic, keep the chicken heads gobblin' | |
| Shit I' m drivin' in, come with funk halogen | |
| Terrorize your city, from the spliff committee | |
| Kick ass till both timberlands turn shitty | |
| Gritty, smack the driver' s head in the chin' see | |
| When I approach rappers be takin' notes | |
| I drop like | |
| I shoulda invented the raincoat | |
| Absolute, | |
| I love to burn to the roots | |
| I keep comin' til your pour sperm from your boots | |
| Vigilante hardcore to the penis | |
| Tell you fuck you my attitude is anemic | |
| I' m the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it | |
| I snatch your crown witcha head still attached to it | |
| Canibus is the type who' ll fight for mics | |
| Beatin' niggaz to death and beatin' dead niggaz to life | |
| When you look at me long enough, | |
| I start to read your thoughts | |
| If the signal was strong enough, and then | |
| I' ll call your bluff | |
| Like, yo, how many rhymes you got? | |
| I think I' ll go on | |
| For more millenniums 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 you had a phone number | |
| Who wanna see canibus get wild, who wanna act fly | |
| And get shot down with a surfacetoair 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 hundred | |
| 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 | |
| When in doubt, however skull goes, it' s gon' be that | |
| See that, that shit' ll finish you dawg, believe that | |
| Where we at, do your value your life, as much as your possessions? | |
| Don' t be a stupid niggs, learn a lesson | |
| I' m gon' get you either way, and it' s better to live | |
| Let me get what' s between your sock, cause it' s, better to give | |
| Than receive, believe what | |
| I say when | |
| I tell you | |
| Don' t make me put your somewhere where nobody' ll smell you | |
| 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' se a pink nigga, ski mask for it, baby | |
| So I can hit you up on front teeth, you think | |
| I' m sweet? | |
| Want heat? | |
| One deep, leave him behind, front seat | |
| Aiyyo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven | |
| Blaze the hot trizack that sound like heaven | |
| Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one | |
| My mon methtical come and get some | |
| When young sons fantasize of borrowing flows | |
| Tell little | |
| Shorty with the big mouth the bank is closed, yeah, word up | |
| The symbol on my arm is off limits to challengers | |
| You hold the rusty swords | |
| I swing the | |
| ExcaliburHow dare you step up in my dimension | |
| Your little ass should be somewhere cryin' on detention | |
| Watch your mouth better yet hold your tongue | |
| I' ma do this shit for free this time this one' s for fun | |
| Blow you to pieces, leave you covered in feces | |
| With one thesis, | |
| LL 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 | |
| MikeSwingin' at | |
| Ken Griffey or challengin' | |
| Roy to a fight | |
| Snappin, you amateur mc' s | |
| 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 | |
| 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 socialize | |
| And I' m daring every mc 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 | |
| LL Cool J nigga, greatest of all time |
| zuò cí : King Ad Rock, MCA, Noble ... | |
| Aiyyo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven | |
| Blaze the hot trizack that sound like heaven | |
| Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one | |
| My mon methtical come and get some | |
| Playin' my position, hot | |
| NixonThis one, for all the sick ones, conflict ion | |
| Poisonous darts sickenin', best believe | |
| Finger itchin' with two broke legs, now | |
| I' m trippin | |
| On Mc' s cliche, shot that ricochets | |
| Start trouble bust bubbles, hip to wicked ways | |
| Gotta love me, | |
| God no one above me | |
| Look good but fuck ugly, tap your jaw | |
| From my punch buggy sunnin' you | |
| Got you shittin' in your last huggie, runnin' who? | |
| Fuckin' punk, get a speed bump comin' through | |
| A single shot make your knees knock, respect wu | |
| Aiyyo I put it on a nigga, shit it on a nigga | |
| Turnin' Christian to a certified sinner | |
| The bomb I release, time pent up | |
| While you got set up | |
| I was hittin' your ex hoe | |
| Shit I kept low, petro' your metro | |
| Politic, keep the chicken heads gobblin' | |
| Shit I' m drivin' in, come with funk halogen | |
| Terrorize your city, from the spliff committee | |
| Kick ass till both timberlands turn shitty | |
| Gritty, smack the driver' s head in the chin' see | |
| When I approach rappers be takin' notes | |
| I drop like | |
| I shoulda invented the raincoat | |
| Absolute, | |
| I love to burn to the roots | |
| I keep comin' til your pour sperm from your boots | |
| Vigilante hardcore to the penis | |
| Tell you fuck you my attitude is anemic | |
| I' m the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it | |
| I snatch your crown witcha head still attached to it | |
| Canibus is the type who' ll fight for mics | |
| Beatin' niggaz to death and beatin' dead niggaz to life | |
| When you look at me long enough, | |
| I start to read your thoughts | |
| If the signal was strong enough, and then | |
| I' ll call your bluff | |
| Like, yo, how many rhymes you got? | |
| I think I' ll go on | |
| For more millenniums 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 you had a phone number | |
| Who wanna see canibus get wild, who wanna act fly | |
| And get shot down with a surfacetoair 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 hundred | |
| 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 | |
| When in doubt, however skull goes, it' s gon' be that | |
| See that, that shit' ll finish you dawg, believe that | |
| Where we at, do your value your life, as much as your possessions? | |
| Don' t be a stupid niggs, learn a lesson | |
| I' m gon' get you either way, and it' s better to live | |
| Let me get what' s between your sock, cause it' s, better to give | |
| Than receive, believe what | |
| I say when | |
| I tell you | |
| Don' t make me put your somewhere where nobody' ll smell you | |
| 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' se a pink nigga, ski mask for it, baby | |
| So I can hit you up on front teeth, you think | |
| I' m sweet? | |
| Want heat? | |
| One deep, leave him behind, front seat | |
| Aiyyo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven | |
| Blaze the hot trizack that sound like heaven | |
| Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one | |
| My mon methtical come and get some | |
| When young sons fantasize of borrowing flows | |
| Tell little | |
| Shorty with the big mouth the bank is closed, yeah, word up | |
| The symbol on my arm is off limits to challengers | |
| You hold the rusty swords | |
| I swing the | |
| ExcaliburHow dare you step up in my dimension | |
| Your little ass should be somewhere cryin' on detention | |
| Watch your mouth better yet hold your tongue | |
| I' ma do this shit for free this time this one' s for fun | |
| Blow you to pieces, leave you covered in feces | |
| With one thesis, | |
| LL 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 | |
| MikeSwingin' at | |
| Ken Griffey or challengin' | |
| Roy to a fight | |
| Snappin, you amateur mc' s | |
| 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 | |
| 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 socialize | |
| And I' m daring every mc 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 | |
| LL Cool J nigga, greatest of all time |
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