Walking with a Panther | Visualizer | Track 16
(1989) Def Jam/Columbia
lyrics
They call me Uncle L, Future of the Funk
Records are recorded minus all the junk
People spread gossip and believe what they must
While I slam dunk punks and make 'em bite the dust
A minute is needed to make a phony roni bleed
And put 'em in a bucket like he's chicken feed
Check out the pick of the litter, not a quitter, I'm nice y'all
And I'ma dust you off and dust you off twice
I heard it's all observant, hysterical fanatics
Of the Asiatic miracle man
Prominent, dominant, McCoy and I'm real
If you're another brother's fan, forget how you feel
'Cause he's so-so, I got the instinct
They call me Deputy Dog to put your ass in the clink
Innovating, devastating, and dope on a single, now
Let me see your earrings jingle
go 'head, baby
I chopped you, chewed you, baked you and screwed you
That shit you pop, you need to stop, you're kind of rude, you
No good nigga-boo trying to base
How we living, holmes? Get out my face
I'm complete, in effect, and I can't fall
I rise, surprise, and I advise you all
To stand back and peep, don't sleep or doubt
My skill'll get ill, I turn the mother out
I'm top-notch, you're still playing hop-scotch
Now I'ma do ya while the party people watch
You're real funny, you really try to go for yours
But I know why, you ain't had no dough before
So you tried and lied to drain my fame
This ain't a game, yo, you know my name
Forget all the MC's who like to mingle
Yo, baby, let me see your earrings jingle
go 'head, baby
When you first walked in, I ain't know what to think
You grabbed the microphone like your shit don't stink
And tried to run down that, I can't get over that
Shit you were sayin', you call that a battle rap?
How you gon' go against an army with a handgun?
I'm Cool J, yo, you don't understand, son
I'm a legend, on top of that I'm livin'
Now you look stupid like that bitch Ms. Givens
Whoever geesed you up, nah, how should I say it?
Whoever set you up, they knew just how to play it
'Cause, man, yo, I feel for you brother
I'm a bad word to my mother
Taking out suckers while the ladies pucker
And rolling over niggas like a redneck trucker
Innovating, devastating, and dope on a single, now
Lemme see your earrings jingle
go 'head, baby
The way you be jingling, word
Can't believe you tried to grip the same mic as me
Your grip's too weak, you can't hold it, B
You can dream of making progress and getting this nice
But when I roll up, it's like Hip Hop Vice
I serve the curbs, I never swerve, I'm superb
Every word you heard played tricks on your nerves
You played your hand, lost track of your plan
When I show up, I blow up, end of story, my man
I'ma play you like a poker chip, that is what you get
I bet your fret, sweat, and regret you met
The titan of fighting, exciting when writing, you trifling toy-boy
I gotta enlighten, so start biting
You know you can't create and get mean like this
When I'm on the court, G, it's strictly swish
When it's all over, said and done, my friend
They say, "That bad motherfucker just scored again"
So take a step back, give me some room to wreck shop
Here's your token back, you're getting off at the next stop
I'ma deliver and give a speech with vigor
I drink some Olde E and start waxing niggas
go 'head, baby
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Dennis Coffet / Dwayne Simon / James Todd Smith
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