No Airplay (Letra)

Contribuição

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Intro:
Y’all wanna put it on tape and do all the real [BACKWARDS]?
Ya just wanna go straight to dat? Aight
You don’t wanna mix it or nuttin? Aight let’s do it
You want me to do the hook part too?
Check it out uhh, check it out uhh
Yeah it’s that Uncle L [BACKWARDS], you know, word up
Ain’t no doubt about this, I’m settin this [BACKWARDS] right in here
Yeah yeah yeah, I’m gonna sex this up, yeah go like this here
Check it out

Verse 1:

I’m beatin [BACKWARDS] against the [BACKWARDS] up out their boots
Flame throwin their troops, they can’t recoup from drinkin acid soup
Spectacular, benacular, miraculous raw [BACKWARDS]
Scooped off the concrete to make a hit
Tearin [BACKWARDS] out the hinges, competition cringes
in the trenches, killin for mere inches
Word to mama, I tongue kiss a piranha
Electricute a barricuda for tryin to bring the drama
I get more ass than a toilet seat
So put your ballerina shoes on and tiptoe down my [BACKWARDS]
Your mother[BACKWARDS] deathwish will be soloist
R-double O-K-I-E you ain’t stylish
It’s mother[BACKWARDS] arson from here to Parsons
You’re [BACKWARDS] dawson, it’s murder, when I step in the door run
for your mother[BACKWARDS] life, get ghost
or taste the toast and get your [BACKWARDS] hung on a goalpost
Startin at’cha neck to check ya for respect
Ya back get snapped, your lower spine gets wet
Hips get ripped and then your thighs start to slide
I’m up thru [BACKWARDS]hole and [BACKWARDS] up your inside

Hook:

And don’t be gettin no airplay
A jam that’cha love, a jam that’cha love
It’s a jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay
A jam that’cha love, a jam that’cha love

Verse 2:

Yeah, the rugged ass style I possess
They got the [BACKWARDS] goin from Bel Air to baggin up sess
[BACKWARDS]! Mother[BACKWARDS] right [BACKWARDS] in his corn
You shoulda never put me on this mic, you was warned
I got [BACKWARDS] chasin behind my path for garbage bags
hopin to bring in to throw old rhyme to one of da fags
Huh, I’m on my mother[BACKWARDS] game like dat
I put it in your chest and make your heart go flat
All the mother[BACKWARDS] tracks in the world can’t save ya
when I drop these chains on ya brain and enslave ya
Once you was on a pedestal now ya gettin ridiculed
[BACKWARDS] is critical, we’re fightin at the pinnacle
I’m burnin [BACKWARDS] like a cracker do a cross
Ain’t no three-in-a-row tic tac toe, this is a real flow boss
Makin [BACKWARDS] understand my language
then they rap and vanish and camouflage the damage

Interlude:

To whom it may concern, youknowhutI’msayin?
We’re gonna do this right here, word is bond, huh huh
Cos it’s a jam that you love that don’t be gettin no airplay
(A jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay)
I wanna do that one right yo

Verse 3:

To whom it may concern on this mother[BACKWARDS] test
I got the zest to clip ya thru ya vest
Little shortys with big 40’s talkin loud, actin proud
BLAOW! Now ya chokin off a black cloud
Rollin El’s til your brain swells
Inhale deep sleep and dust me off them old ass Rock The Bells
You mother[BACKWARDS], you fruitcakes, you fakin jacks
You [BACKWARDS] don’t want it, I’m burnin up the wax
I’m a trailblazin, gun totin, renegade
black ass New York [BACKWARDS] choppin like a blade
Bullshinanigans, country ass mannequins
Mother[BACKWARDS] frontin and I bet you ain’t no slam again
Yeah what? I siad it and [BACKWARDS] sweat it
What? You catch a heat-seekin missile in ya gut

Outro:

Ha ha, word is bond yo
It’s a jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay
Yeah, ha ha, word is bond
Y’knowhutI’msayin? I’m catchin mother[BACKWARDS] wreck in here,
knowI’msayin?
[BACKWARDS] to all them rookies, [BACKWARDS] word up ha ha
Yo I got the laugh, word, knowI’msayin?
And sometimes [BACKWARDS] skill boys, you just gotta laugh at
mother[BACKWARDS]
Ha ha, yeah uhh
A jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay
A jam that’cha love, a jam that’cha love
Yeah, I wanna shout it out to my mother[BACKWARDS] [BACKWARDS] around
Farmers
My [BACKWARDS] Zeus, knowI’msayin? My mother [BACKWARDS] minnan right
diddere
Spit at the tissturn t-t-t-tables all L willing a-a-a-able,
youknowI’msayin?
Get mad busy in this [BACKWARDS], y’knowI’msayin?
My [BACKWARDS] don’t give a [BACKWARDS], word up
Set that [BACKWARDS] off right, uhh

Compartilhe!

No Airplay (Letra)

Contribuição

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[wyclef]
Yo the brooklyn bridge is gonna collapse y’know?
Yo this wyclef jean and the refugee all-stars up in here
Yo what’s this i hear about the police in brooklyn?
Turn this jam up, yo, yo
This the type of jam that be getting no airplay
I want the whole world to hear this joint right here, yo
This the type of jam that be getting no airplay
You asked for it buddy, here it comes

One two, watch out for the man in blue
Three four, i keep it raw and hardcore
Five six, you’re beating us with nightsticks
Seven eight, i’m forced to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if i could
Do it all again, i’d probably bust your chin
*repeat 2x: first time "ah"; second time "once i leave the pen"*

I’m from a land of black bats, alley rats and cats
Scratch up my car, set me up for the carjack
Under pressure, i gotta leave the gat
Two straps, a total of sixteen caps
Say something positive? no positivity
More positivity, more positivity brutality
Thugs get angry, the violence increase
You want peace, make wyclef chief of police
Riding through the hood, it’s the same ol story
It’s either you play ball or you drug dealy dealy
Standin on the block when the spot get hot
Guaranteed to get set up, by a crooked cop
So i’m sittin back, rhymin on instrumentals
Anything i touch, it turns monumental
Me and jerry wonder, we keep it credible
For the streets, at the same time, we gotta eat
When we commercialize it’s to enterprise
We guarantee to sell a hundred mil before we die
But jerry is broke, that’s the situation
Nine-seven, it’s like no more eviction
No more war milk, no more government cheese
Police keep on shootin at our bulletproof bentley

Yo this the type of jam that be getting no airplay
The brooklyn bridge about to collapse, apocalypse
This the type of jam that be getting no airplay
The ghettoes are fed up, we got the arms in the air

One two, watch out for the man in blue
Three four, i keep it raw and hardcore
Five six, you’re beating us with nightsticks
Seven eight, i’m forced to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if i could
Do it all again, i’d probably bust your chin

[manhunt]
Yo bust this
Forty caliber, seventeen through your character
Waterworld’s world, underwater, sub mariner
Derringer, twenty-two one in the challenger
Seven, four-eight, 23rd on the calender
My word verses, burst raps you rap nervous
It’s worthless, you get smashed up, on the surface
Projectile, my forty-four style, blood on silver
The red ripper, fill up the resevoir nigga
Armageddeon, you smack dead on, a world crisis
The nicest, for sixteen bars, of preciseness

[wyclef]
One two, watch out for the man in blue
Three four, i keep it raw and hardcore
Five six, you’re sticking me with nightsticks
Seven eight, i’m forced to call canibus
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if i could
Do it all again, i’d probably bust your whole chin

[canibus]
You got a gat nigga, use it, go ‘head pull it
Scientists got raw footage of me dodgin bullets
I walk the streets with heat, three biscuits
Outnumberin niggaz twin glocks with triplets
When i spit shit i lace it, you get punched in face with
Puncutations of five-knuckle phrases
I assure you the vocalist standin before you
Will destroy you with temperatures hot enough to flamebroil you
My tongue moves much faster than yours do
Every three thousand styles i change my voiceboxes oil
Embarass you in front of your crew to annoy you
If you know some chicks that suck a good dick, then i’ll employ you
To this hip-hop shit, canibus stays loyal
That’s why every killuminati i battle somebody for you
I’m warnin you, me versus you, i hurt you
My balance enables me to squaredance in a circle
Your head’ll spin so fast you’ll catch whiplash
I practice lyrical witchcraft on your bitch ass
Make your hard drive crash to c colon backslash (c:/)
Go back to the roots and reprogram your wack ass, nigga

[wyclef]
One two, watch out for the man in blue
Three four, i keep it raw and hardcore
Five six, you’re sticking us with nightsticks
Seven eight, i’m forced to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if i could
Do it all again, i’d probably bust your whole chin
Where brooklyn at? where brooklyn at? (right here, right here)
A-ight? new jersey in the house…

The people versus gestapo, what what
Yo, there’ll be no sequel to this revolution
There will be no sequel to this revolution
The people versus gestapo
There’ll be no sequel to this revolution, what what

No Airplay (Letra)

LL Cool J

Download

#Compartilhe

Intro:

Y’all wanna put it on tape and do all the real [backwards]?
Ya just wanna go straight to dat? aight
You don’t wanna mix it or nuttin? aight let’s do it
You want me to do the hook part too?
Check it out uhh, check it out uhh
Yeah it’s that uncle l [backwards], you know, word up
Ain’t no doubt about this, i’m settin this [backwards] right in here
Yeah yeah yeah, i’m gonna sex this up, yeah go like this here
Check it out

Verse 1:

I’m beatin [backwards] against the [backwards] up out their boots
Flame throwin their troops, they can’t recoup from drinkin acid soup
Spectacular, benacular, miraculous raw [backwards]
Scooped off the concrete to make a hit
Tearin [backwards] out the hinges, competition cringes
In the trenches, killin for mere inches
Word to mama, i tongue kiss a piranha
Electricute a barricuda for tryin to bring the drama
I get more ass than a toilet seat
So put your ballerina shoes on and tiptoe down my [backwards]
Your mother[backwards] deathwish will be soloist
R-double o-k-i-e you ain’t stylish
It’s mother[backwards] arson from here to parsons
You’re [backwards] dawson, it’s murder, when i step in the door run
For your mother[backwards] life, get ghost
Or taste the toast and get your [backwards] hung on a goalpost
Startin at’cha neck to check ya for respect
Ya back get snapped, your lower spine gets wet
Hips get ripped and then your thighs start to slide
I’m up thru [backwards]hole and [backwards] up your inside

Hook:

And don’t be gettin no airplay
A jam that’cha love, a jam that’cha love
It’s a jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay
A jam that’cha love, a jam that’cha love

Verse 2:

Yeah, the rugged ass style i possess
They got the [backwards] goin from bel air to baggin up sess
[backwards]! mother[backwards] right [backwards] in his corn
You shoulda never put me on this mic, you was warned
I got [backwards] chasin behind my path for garbage bags
Hopin to bring in to throw old rhyme to one of da fags
Huh, i’m on my mother[backwards] game like dat
I put it in your chest and make your heart go flat
All the mother[backwards] tracks in the world can’t save ya
When i drop these chains on ya brain and enslave ya
Once you was on a pedestal now ya gettin ridiculed
[backwards] is critical, we’re fightin at the pinnacle
I’m burnin [backwards] like a cracker do a cross
Ain’t no three-in-a-row tic tac toe, this is a real flow boss
Makin [backwards] understand my language
Then they rap and vanish and camouflage the damage

Interlude:

To whom it may concern, youknowhuti’msayin?
We’re gonna do this right here, word is bond, huh huh
Cos it’s a jam that you love that don’t be gettin no airplay
(a jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay)
I wanna do that one right yo

Verse 3:

To whom it may concern on this mother[backwards] test
I got the zest to clip ya thru ya vest
Little shortys with big 40’s talkin loud, actin proud
Blaow! now ya chokin off a black cloud
Rollin el’s til your brain swells
Inhale deep sleep and dust me off them old ass rock the bells
You mother[backwards], you fruitcakes, you fakin jacks
You [backwards] don’t want it, i’m burnin up the wax
I’m a trailblazin, gun totin, renegade
Black ass new york [backwards] choppin like a blade
Bullshinanigans, country ass mannequins
Mother[backwards] frontin and i bet you ain’t no slam again
Yeah what? i siad it and [backwards] sweat it
What? you catch a heat-seekin missile in ya gut

Outro:

Ha ha, word is bond yo
It’s a jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay
Yeah, ha ha, word is bond
Y’knowhuti’msayin? i’m catchin mother[backwards] wreck in here,
Knowi’msayin?
[backwards] to all them rookies, [backwards] word up ha ha
Yo i got the laugh, word, knowi’msayin?
And sometimes [backwards] skill boys, you just gotta laugh at
Mother[backwards]
Ha ha, yeah uhh
A jam that’cha love that don’t be gettin no airplay
A jam that’cha love, a jam that’cha love
Yeah, i wanna shout it out to my mother[backwards] [backwards] around
Farmers
My [backwards] zeus, knowi’msayin? my mother [backwards] minnan right
Diddere
Spit at the tissturn t-t-t-tables all l willing a-a-a-able,
Youknowi’msayin?
Get mad busy in this [backwards], y’knowi’msayin?
My [backwards] don’t give a [backwards], word up
Set that [backwards] off right, uhh