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[LL Cool J] "Cold get stupid ill!" [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] "Myke Miers" .. "get ill!" [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] "Myke.. Miers", "ill!" [Mykill Miers] Your first mistake, is that you wanted to go flow for flow But my lyrical, was too much for you to bargain fo' My mic checkin is life threatenin The style I use can't be defused, it only deton-nates There's no escape once you enter my zone See my vocal tone, it's Gulf War Syndrome Many conspire, to overthrow Mykill Miers But a, killer for hire, can never retire Only retaliate with forty-fives and thirty-eights and escalate, the wack MC's death rate My slugs scoot out, in a shoot out, bring the loot out Yo move out, we find a new route Cause to hold it down, these dumb clowns wanna go the round I'm layin wack MC's down with my fo'-pound And then obliterate your whole town You shoulda never crossed this killer, bet you know now [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] Letras de canciones"Myke Miers" .. "get ill!" [Mykill Miers] Yo, can't none of y'all last with me You see I'm so dope they had to name the mic after me I blast MC's that's the way that it have to be My family gots No Limits like Master P It's blasphemy to talk trash to me I turn your rap career into a catastrophe See I'm your majesty, because I reign like Hussein Blow you out the frame, now you can't hang with the pain that I inflict, yo I insist that you bust I guarantee when you finish they'll be moppin you up Ahh yo I bust dope, see plus note my style is cut throat to leave you blood soaked My clique is thick like blunt smoke See plus we all gun tote, and we best known to bust folks Your whole image is just a hoax See y'all went O.G.'s and locs, with six-fo's and gold spokes I'm the illest [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] "Myke Miers" .. [scratched* "ill!"] [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] "Myke Miers" .. [scratched* "get ill!"] [Mykill Miers] My vocals is "Apocalypse Now" I served MC's before but you at the top of the pile You feel my onslaught, I walk the strets with a sawed off Body parts fall off, you gettin hauled off I express myself well with a gun You think killin is hard work, but to me, yo it's fun I make all you rappers run, my notebook weighs a ton I got more ways than one to erase you son My police record, is platinum, I act dumb with a magnum with brain fragments scattered in your bathroom See I'm the bloodiest brother known to man Cause the mic in my hand, similar to a knife in my hand The madman who leaves bodies in trash cans The copycat killer will be the, last man you would ever expect, the unusual suspect And I do most of my work after sunset, come test [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] Yo I'm the illest [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] Yo I'm the illest [scratched: "I'm the illest.."] [fades out] From Letras Mania