Songtext Letters Kool G. Rap & Dj Polo

Letters

What are you going to do? (2x)
Nigga!
The k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p letters
My mic sound nice, check one
The k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p letters
Sound nice (cut and scratched)

[kool g. rap]
Rougher than gotti, in tone
Got a body harder than flintstone
Your girl got her skins boned
Im diggin her down with my skintone
Its brown-er than bobby cause humpin is my hobby
Down in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan
Listen and learn and turn on your tuners if he looney
? ? I break, bang zoom, like honeymooners
I dont want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers
The wickeder rapper the dapper rappers when I flap my trapper
Got that ass gassed by amoco, you know you aint man to go
Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe
I dont give a heck, but I dont peck on a redneck
You wanna pull cards, youre a dead deck, bed check
Lead my from tec, come and step up and get your head red
Wait a sec, you comin to see whats left?
I gotta catch my breath, rappers slayed
Or played like jeff to the left
And none of you nitwits can get with this hit shit
You dipstics, even miss kiss, but no lipstick
I dont run a style but a mile to bust a child
Big ol snappy happy rappers smile like gomer pyle
Hell, Im ringin bells with a ding-dong
I play you like ping-pong
You swingin on my ding-a-long king kong
I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day habit
Bing bing bang, just like the ricochet rapid
Grab it, your sound is just like a lady baby, maybe
Youre old as grady, still in the 80s, metaphors born in haiti
I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop rocks
Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop
You name your best Ill say, who, like owls
Pass me a towel, and ima move my bowels all over his vowels
Bring ten men, then Ill send my venom in em
You aint gonna win em cause he got a womens momentum
And I dont wanna hear from this queer
Cause one of these niggaz just doesnt belong here
My rhymes are like the nine millimeter beretta
Cause anything rappers could do yo I could do it better

The k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p letters
My mic sound nice, check two
The k the double-o the l the g-r-a-p letters
Sound nice (cut and scratched)

You no-frill slow toy, cheap thrills, no joy
My lyrical skills give me pillsbury doughboy
Back, Im packin em up like jack the ripper
Some pallyll Im pullin the zipper
Finger popped, the better the batter or flipper
Youre out of date, you must be the late show, I hate those
Puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, better get maaco
Dead-on, head-on collision, bad decision
You wanna see me nigga you better check your vision
It aint 20/20 money silly bunny your funny
Your assll get smashed just like a crash test dummy
Retire, an mc that oscar meyer could take
Some of you wacky rappers just play anyway
Thats b-o-l-o-g-n-a
So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style hurt
Hey hey hey! should I say its fatter than albert
Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot groups
Turnin cold, better go and sip on some swiss miss
Inner city, actin like bitties, youre pussy
So here kitty kitty, come get some milk from my hoes titties
Cross at the green not in between or get hit g
Red light, green light, one two three
Out for the dash, but in the flash, you shoulda let me pass
fore crash, now that ass is in a bodycast
Everytime I put out my records and tapes
Motherfuckers go bananas like this was planet of the apes
Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches purchase tickets
To ride the dick and sit down it like a greyhound
Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as wooden soldiers
See niggaz, you aint even magilla guerillas
Bass in your face, stingin like mace
Im bringin the right taste, hangin like waist
Pick up the pace