LL in the Black leather
back bigger, back deffer
I’m bad weather for your mascara
Ain’t gotta brag, I’ll let fan tell ya
My effect is so mándela
El dog in this cat-era
It’ll add pressure that you can’t measure if I address ya like a stamped letter
Just call my name it won’t be all in vain bc I’m off the chain like a snapped tether
Stack cheddar like a cash teller
Doing class lectures on my track record
Heat clutched, I don’t freeze up
These nuts is D cups
Green bucks really mean much
No free lunch yeah the fee’s stuck
Cuz these muthafuckas just rhyme words
While I make waves like Steinberg
But some of y’all still got the lines blurred
And that shit’s getting on my nerves
But before I call names imma call on the Lord, got somebody baby mama propped on all fours,
The feeling when you clearing all the pawns from the board, and the best that they can hope is that you fall on my sword
Ain’t No need for me to embellish
If you wrote me off, I must’ve misread it
My name too heavy for you to discredit
Couldn’t get it off ya chest if you
Bench press it
I be out there with the big fellas
You be inside with some fib tellers,
NAACP president ass niggas
That’s right you Been jealous
Chorus:
Black leather,
Dipped in black leather,
And I got my medallion 'round my neck
'Cause you know we rep to death
G Rep
Dipped in black leather,
And I got my medallion 'round my neck,
'Cause you know we rep to death
In black leather,
Dipped in black leather
Verse 2:
Free spirit, I don’t need clearance
Speak lyrics, and the weak fear it
Just like a yacht would be if it was lost at sea, in other words I be peerless
The premier emcees here
And the heat’s near
So what’s beef, I’ll seer it,
slow your roll like lean syrup
Cuz I’ll bring tears to who keep dearest
Why would anybody try YS?
Your guess good as my guess
Don’t know they do it where you come from but here’s a plus one, be my guest
I’ll take the heat, like a Pyrex then
Make the beat and pen rhymes next
No record skipped on these technics but your needles jumped on your lie test
Everybody wanna be legendary
Beating on your chest ain’t necessary
Especially when next to me,
Expectedly,
your very best’s just secondary
Yeah secondary like February
Or maybe the amendment over weapons carried, that turn white tees shirts red as cherries,
Put em underneath dirt, dead and buried
From kilometers,
with no binoculars
I see imposters who rocking they polyesters
Shit got the texture of cottonella
Got one better in my armoire dresser
You copped whatever that you thought was clever
But you ain’t said nothing but an acapella
I’m large professor meets rockafella
I cannot be fresher when I rock my leather
5 out of 5 in Creative Loafing (Jan, 2011) "I can’t explain in words just how much I LOVE THIS ALBUM, even 22 tracks deep “Self Titled” never grows tiresome." -Eric, Bloggerhouse.net Yamin Semali
