Do-Re-Mi (feat. L.L. Cool J & Scarface)

Uhh, uhh, yeah See I know how to get down, word up It's so hot it's LL's version of the East Coast chronic Smoke 'til your lungs collapse You supposed to be the nigga, where all the drama at? So ironic, L came back Flooded the market, got your mens on the wall Holdin' his blunt, too fucked up to spark it Show me a nigga who can do like I do Then gas your mans up so I can rip that nigga too Braggin' you goin' platinum like that shit brand new I was platinum in eighty-five, what the fuck wrong with you, huh? Come [unverified] L, what you call rocks to me is minerals? Tried to throw salt on my name, shit's political The baddest man on the planet So ill, when I'm spittin' niggaz take it for granted Cram to understand it, I'll switch and write it left handed Heat my pinky ring up and leave your bitch branded Got a voice like a cannon nigga shoot I don't think she really hot, your career is a fluke I'm the best MC to ever touch the pen Take a look at what I'm doin' it will not be done again As sure I am the descendant of former slaves I'ma resurrect brothers from they mental graves Make 'em confess, LL's the most rugged God and no man's above it, gotta love it Do, get this bread, use ya infrared Re, fuck the industry, it's all about Mi, you ain't goin' FA L said it so, puffin on the L.A. Do, get this bread, use ya infrared Re, fuck the industry, it's all about Mi, you ain't goin' FA E said so, puffin on the L.A. (Ti do) Uhh, E-Dub on the microphone Droppin' bombs spots get blown So why would you assume my style wouldn't bloom When I rap, wack, MC's vacate the room 'Cause they suck and that's how I feel I'ma smack down the A&R who signed the deal Then wrap 'round his neck yo' reel to reel So next time he know, how the real feel Get loose and wrap hand 'round the steel Leave you in the truck, wrapped 'round ya wheel (I ain't playin) But y'all front like I ain't it And every rapper y'all like, sample my shit (Name one) I'm nice, and there's no mistakin' I threw a bomb rhyme in the hands of Troy Aikman My track record is out there, gone E.T. like maybe I should phone home (Hello?) I'm known for the dome bangers Drop any song of mine right now in the club and it's danger Scarface, E, LL Cool J, never heard it spit this way, hey (Jigga, jigga) Do, get this bread, use ya infrared Re, fuck the industry, it's all about Mi, you ain't goin' FA L said it so, puffin on the L.A. (That's right) Do, get this bread, use ya infrared Re, fuck the industry, it's all about Mi, you ain't goin' FA 'Cause 'Face said so, puffin on the L.A. (Ti do) You a trash ass nigga slash garbage ass rhymer You switched from the raw to a chart climber And now your shit is blowin' out the stores And uh, next month you fin' to go out on the tour but Count (Two, three and four) Your records ain't sellin' no more And damn you done spent your money galore Buyin' all the stupid shit that your money can't afford (Uh, oh) Tryin' to keep up with the trendy Got your bitch minked out in all Fendi Bought your homeboy a brand new Bentley And the well that wouldn't run dry is now empty It's simply, 'cause you wasn't focused on the next day And your next tape, you can't give it away, but hey I send these to these niggaz tryin' to keep up with the Joneses Everything you see, me I owns it I've been quietly sellin' tapes for thirteen years So let's get that clear You might have sold a few more tapes but Realistically are you that great? (Nah) Can't get respect but I done paid dues Stood on the block slangin' cooked up rocks, I'm the same dude I've been the same nigga since I came through Do-re-mi too, damn fool