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LL Cool J – Farmers Blvd. (Our Anthem) lyrics

Farmers Blvd. (Our Anthem) is the 5th song on the album Mama Said Knock You Out of LL Cool J launched in 1990. and the lyrics below have 1 visits. You are here because you LIKE this song and you are probably searching for its lyrics so, do not forget to make a nice review and come back for new lyrics anytime.

Hey man, don’t you realize in order for us to make this thing work?
Man, we’ve got to get rid of the pimps and the pushers
And the prostitutes, yes, yes, y’all that’s funky, yeah
Hey yo Marley, man, yo, what’s up, man?
Hey yo man, you know we was gettin’ busy on the album everyday

We been gettin’ funky but I wanna take this jam back to Farmers
You know what I’m sayin’? Yo, let’s go back on Farmers
And get some of them early MC’s, you used to be kickin’ it with
Back in the day? Yeah, yeah, yeah, let’s do a jam with them
Aight, bet but first I gotta like introduce it, you know what I’m sayin’?
Aight, kick it

Back in the days before I was Cool J
I used to hang up on the corner, pumpin’ Games People Play
Sittin’ on a garbage can, rhymin’ to my man
Talkin’ ’bout big money and future plans

I always told the brothers, if I got a contract
When the money started flowin’, I’d be back
To do a jam, against all odds
Introducing rapper 1 from Farmers Blvd.

Hey yo, B O M B, bomb explosion
Attack like a cat when I’m trapped and I’m closed in
Sharp ass claws and I break all laws
In a while all jaws ’cause I’m perfect, no flaws

Now I’m back to Farmers on some new improved
I’m makin’ moves, not fakin’ moves
So don’t you never come around here talkin’ that talk
Or walkin’ that walk, you’ll get played like a sport

Football, soccer, whatever you savor
You’re a tramp and a pussycat, ready for labor
L’ll have you breakin’ locks
I’ll have you cookin’ fried rice in a big steel box

The type of skills that I got reigned for years
No worry or cares, your crew’ll shed tears
‘Hip-hip-hooray, he’s back’ yo, save the cheers
Suckers, I’m drinkin’ forties of beers on the boulevard

Funky, funky, funky rhymes bein’ said here
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo uncle L, let’s go
Yeah man, I wanna check out my man, Big Money Grip
Yo, what’s up, man, kick a little somethin’

Kick out the can and slam
Summertime, C I A step into the jam
Reach for the mic and the punks start to fold up
And the brothers start fleein’ like it’s a hold up

Some step aside but a few play me close
Never worry, ’cause the brother who cross me’s gettin’ burried
And the fool who wants to deal with another dose
I see to it in a hour that the mutha is comatose

Farmers Boulevard, the place
Handin’ me a mic is like givin’ a chainsaw to Leather Face
Smokin’ MC’s in an instant
At my side bustin’ caps is T-Boogie, my assistant

Throw that speaker in the trash
Why’s that? ‘Cause Gangster Boogie gave the woofer a gash
Big Money Grip makin’ you get up
Farmers crew’s in effect, we never heard of a head up

Yo, yo, yo, it’s kinda funky out here on the boulevard, yo
Yeah, we livin’ Chinese people in a Turkish bath, baby
Hi C over there, man, yo, what’s up? Hi C

Hi C on the scene, at last to bust a funky rhyme
More than a line on time because I’m gettin’ mine
Never underestimate the skill of a great one
The Boulevard lord, shorts, never take none

Another funky rapper from around the way
Leavin’ bodies at a party ’cause somebody gotta pay
Boy, you been told, put your lips on hold
All you remember is a barrel and a mouth full of gold

Spreadin’ terror on the street like they was in the past
Any punks on the block, yo, never could last
And I never feel sorry for a sucker I gained on
Any slick talker, yo, he’s bound to get rained on

At any Farmers party at my side is a Mag
One time a sucker got ill and went out in a body bag
Fear will erupt through the heart of another
The Farmers crew will never fall, that’s word to the mother

Yo, yo, it’s kinda funky out here, yo, yo, yo, Hi C
Yo man, y’all kinda funky out here, yo I was
Yo, what’s up? Crew member, 9 years ago, man
You know what I’m sayin’? Farmers Blvd. baby

Yo, I was kinda, I was kinda stagnant to sleep on it
But yo, L, won’t you, won’t you sum it
All up for the people, aight? aight, let me sum this up

Now you heard the brothers speakin’
‘Bout the street that we’re from
Rhymes hittin’, beats kickin’, you can’t get none
F A R M E R S passin’ the test
Marley Marl in the background doin’ the rest

Do re mi fa so la ti do, do ti la so fa mi re do, kato
Get up out my face before I play you like Play Doh
I did a jam against all odds
And it was dedicated to Farmers Blvd.

Keep on to the beat, y’all
A funky beat, y’all, yes, yes
Y’all, you don’t stop

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