Freestyle Friday: Guru vs. LL Cool J

“Rampage” – EPMD ft. Uncle L

The ripper, the master, the overlordian
Playing M.C.s like a old accordion
I get the inspiration from a necessary station
Them sayin’ I was vacationin’
You can’t cope with your weak-ass throat
Tryin’ ‘a sneak a peak in while I freak the notes
Major M.C.s become minor B flats
So retire the mike, get your chains and your bats
Here’s your chance to advance, gettin’ your stance
I’m ‘a shoot the holster off your cowboy pants
Pure entertainment, tonight’s your arraignment
You’re quilty, face down on the pavement
No holds barred, it’s time to get scarred
You and your squad better praise the real god
The undertaker droppin’ thunder on fakers
When it comes to lyrics I’m as freaky as Saka
So lay the mike down slow and careful
‘Cause mine is fully loaded and I have another handful
A clip to slip in and start rippin’
Divin’ and dippin’ and givin’ punks a whippin’
Just in case you wanna go a few rounds and so
I’m down so that you clowns will know
Me gettin’ burnt or hurt won’t be tolerated
I got rhymes up the (huh) forget it, I’m constipated…..L

Slow down baby

You soft as a newborn baby takin a nap
Make my dick hard with that bitch ass track
Where you at? Smokin in some one room flat
Suckin on Clef’s dick hopin to come back
Never that, nigga my size is unlimited
Yours is prohibited, of course that’s contributed
To not knowin ya limits and who you need to test
When you step into the house of the Lord and get blessed
Get on your knees, bow down to my degrees
Young slacker, save that demo for Jack the Rapper
You gargoyle, slash olive oil, pussycat
I wrapped up in aluminum foil, ready to boil
I’ma tear the skin off ya ass with ten knuckles
Rhymes was weak, they made me chuckle like a name buckle
You call em lyrics, nigga you need to stop
You goin out — ahh fuck it, you goin pop
I feed you a poisonous verse so don’t try it
No more rhymin, you on a lyric fast diet
Call the paramedic and tell them that he pathetic
His lyrics ain’t energetic you’re sweet as a diabetic
Career be over next year, yeah I said it
Look over your shoulder nigga, where you headed
MUTHAFUCKA, where’s a rhyme when you need it?
First rule of lyrical war, never repeat it
You said that same bullshit at House of Blues
Lit the pipe, dropped the match, and sparked the wrong fuse
That’s you, yeah nigga I’m goin at you
Stop basin’, and you can be a role model too
Diss my moms, who’s the real Rap Don ?
Who ruled for fifteen years and drops bombs ?
Who’s got solid gold Grammy’s that say Todd
while you dropped verses at niggas’ proms
Faggot, you better battle number two
Cause number one, got his title locked down son
The King of all rappers that ever graced the stage
or the mic, best that ever did it I’m wicked
Write a verse and flip it, melt it down to liquid
And drown shorty, fill his lungs until I rip it
Chest busts open, heart bursts and smokin
YOU SEE THAT NIGGA SON? (Damn L, we was only jokin)
Maneuver manipulate brainwaves transform
your thought process, when my pen gets erect
Warning, all MC’s better retreat
Look at corny-bus, he can’t walk down his own street
Better run and get the Fugees
Cause I EAT, EAT, EAT, MC’s
Devour they titles, cause I’m an idol slash icon
And tell Wyclef, don’t even turn his fuckin mic on
Sold ya nigga, thought I told ya nigga
Crossover, slam dunk, game over nigga (one more time son)
Sold ya nigga, thought I told ya nigga
Crossover, slam dunk, game over nigga

LL COO J – THE RIPPER RETURNS

LL COOL J feat. CANIBUS, DMX, METHOD MAN & REDMAN
“4,3,2,1″

When young sons fantasize of borrowing flows
tell little shorty with the big mouth the bank is closed (yeah, word up)
The symbol on my arm is off limits to challengers
You hold the rusty swords I swing the Excalibur
How dare you step up in my dimension
Your little ass should be somewher cryin on detention
Watch your mouth better yet hold your tongue
I’ma do this shit for free this time this one’s for fun
Blow you to pieces, leave you covered in feces
with one thesis (“LL Cool J is hard”)
Every little boy wanna pick up the mic
and try to run with the big boys and live up to the real hype
But that’s like pickin up a ball, playin with Mike
Swingin at Ken Griffey or challengin Roy to a fight
Snappin, you ameteur MC’s
Don’t you know I’m like the Dream Team tourin overseas
For rappers in my circle I’m a deadly disease
Ringmaster, bringin a tiger cub to his knees (uhh)
In the history of rap they’ve never seen such prominence
Your naive confidence gets crushed by my dominance (word up)
Now let’s get back to this mic on my arm
If it ever left my side it’d transform into a time bomb
You don’t wanna borrow that, you wanna idolize
And you don’t wanna make me mad nigga you wanna socalize
And I’m daring every MC in the game
to play yourself out position, and mention my name
I make a rhyme for every syllable in your name
Go platinum for every time your grimy ass was on the train
Watch your mouth don’t ever step out of line
LL Cool J nigga, greatest of all time

New York, New york is where we live and we’re thorough
Never taking shorts cuz Brooklyn’s the borough
Peace to Uptown, to queens and the Bronx
Long Island and Jersey get as fly as they want
Where we rest is no joke
So let me break it down to sections for you slowpokes
Fort Green, bedstuy, Flatbush, Brownsville
Crown Heights and East New York will be down till
Medina takes respect for the style’s we bring
Cuz in Brooklyn, we be into our own thing
Alantic terminals, redhook bushwick
Come to Brooklyn frontin, and you’ll get mushed quick
We ain’t just know for flipping and turning out parties
But also for the take no bullshit hotties
On the subject of blackness, well let me share this
Brooklyn is the home for cultural awareness
So in all fairness, you can never compare this
Some good, some bad. little hope for the weak
Dangerous streets and Coney Island Beach
All this included when you go for a tour
Some can get scandolous and outright raw
When you step, step correct and watch where you move
We pay dues so we ain’t trying to lose
Here in Brooklyn
The home of the black and the beautiful
For a ruffrap sound, ain’t a place more suitable
Other cities claim this, and others claim that
But let me give some props to the place where we be at
B-R-double O- K-l-Y-N
I came in for a visit and ever since then
I’ve been incorporated with select personel
Right here in Brooklyn, the place where we dwell

“The Place Where Dwell” (classic)

I wonder do you love it enough
I’m steppin’ rugged and tough, never to front or to bluff
I got the fresh cut baldy, the brothers call me
Guru the man yes with all the
J-A-Z-Z-Y type essence, street type lessons manifesting
the one who make the fly ladies feel pleasant
Never forgettin’ that to myself I’m true
do what you want to but watch yourself though “duke”
I don’t wanna hear all of that loud mouthing
try to pull yours out when nothing comes out
Then you’ll see why you can’t compete with me
the notorious Guru of the Gang you see
Starr stands for power like I said before
I’m like the doctors cure slicker than Roger Moore
I slide up to a crab MC like this
tap ‘em in the head with my mic like this
I’ll be revealing that you’re weak to the world if you wish
And I insist that if you persist
then you get creamed, cuz Imma’ get real steamed
so don’t you try to flex and try to look all mean
Heyo check it that’s dead that’s it
cuz all you phony ass rappers Imma’ bust your shit

“Bust Yo Shit” (I love the old stuff, he still had some personality back then)

@Skeme – what up!!!

FYI – “The Break Through” was similar to RUNDMC’s “Sucker MCs” in that it brought the rawness of the cipher and the dangers of rhyming in the park after dark to wax…for the very first time. Whereas “Showdown” with Grandmaster Flash & the Furious 5 versus The Sugar Hill Gang was the original battle on wax, it was somewhat stilted and contrived.

LL took the illness of “Sucker MCs” to the next level by just spitting (i think) like 130 bars straight on this cut – unheard of at that time…what, no chorus!!!

Nine times out of ten I win, with the skills I be weilding
Got the tec one dealing, let me express my feelings
Guru has never been one to play a big shot
It’s just the styles I got that keep my mic hot
And fuck turning my back to the street scene
It gives me energy, so Imma keep fiends
Coming, just to get what I’m selling
Maybe criminal or felon dropping gems on your melon
So keep abreast to the GangStarr conquest
Underground ruffnecks, pounds of respect
I’ve never been afraid to let loose my speech
My brothers know I kick the code of the streets

Guru (Gangstarr)-”Code Of The Streets”

“The G.O.A.T.” – LL Cool J

I wrote so ill that I sold ten mill
Drop more platinum, to fo’ mo’ bills
You pop mo’ shit, I show mo’ skill
Greatest of All Time, and that’s all real
Ain’t no rapper could do what I do
Rip ya whole label so low, no crew
Ain’t a MC that I can’t go throught
And I only have respect for a chosen few
But they could get it too
Trust me, you don’t want L to spit at you
I’m the one they call when shit gets critical
The way I conquer the world is spiritual
I’m imperial
Everlasting, the best who ever did it
Holdin the crown down, can’t nobody get it
Germany, Italy, France, Japan
London, Africa, bow to The Master – The G.O.A.T.

LL Cool J is hard as…

“The Break Through” LL Cool J 2nd 16 Bars

You used to try to talk down now your ego is scarred
See the problem is you want what another man has
His car, his wife, or his razzamatazz
But that’s weak, you gotta do work on your own
cuz when you’re rich you got friends
but when you’re poor you’re alone
So get your own on your own, it’ll strengthen your soul
Stop livin’ off your parents like you’re three years old
Instead of walkin’ like you’re limp and talkin’ yang about me
why don’t you take your monkey-ass and get a college degree?
Or write a rhyme and ride a bike and try to live carefree
Hope my message reaches you before you’re seventy-three
old man – when people ask you what you did with your life
you’ll say “I hated L.L. and I carried a big knife”