- Votes:
 - Composers:
 - Smith
 - James Todd / Parker
 - Chylow M
 
- See also:
 
LL Cool J - Mr. Smith lyrics
Uh Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith
 Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith
 Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith
 I'm goin' to the top leavin' smoke in my trail
 Bitch ass gangstas put that ass on sale
 And even if I'm twice as expensive as the rest
 When I go for dolo you ain't checkin' for nuttin' less
 My strategy is splittin' brain cavity's
 It's ya majesty bringin' you a tragedy
 Yeah, on the butcher block slice her like a ox
 When it's time to get down, nigga, I jam like a Glock
 I bust through all types of red tape and sue papes
 Niggas come old but they always wanna infiltrate
 I'm cuttin' snakes through the belly witta icepick
 And scoopin' hotties, a strong aisle of flip trips
 It's the rebirth of murkin' niggas once again
 I drain with ink and put your blood in my pen
 I'm breakin' ribs till somethin' gives
 A nigga got to live and Mr. Smith is power God, kid
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 What you wanna do, what?
 You lack the vitality, originality, so face reality
 I'm on some ole wild shit, ya niggas can't get wit
 Matter of fact, mornin' yawn and suck a dick
 Nah, hold up, what the fuck is goin' on?
 All these cartoon character MC's gettin' airborne
 Takin' off like a hot air balloon
 Goin up up up, oh no kaboom
 Bring your heroes down to ground zero
 Shotty grippin' ya grill like Pesci and DeNiro
 I'm on some shit, throats is gettin' shit
 Scoopedin' New Jacks and kick 'em in the fire bit
 Tell them ole Jap niggas they need to go and stick it
 'Coz when it comes to this rap shit I'm mad wickedLL Cool J - Mr. Smith - http://motolyrics.com/ll-cool-j/mr-smith-lyrics.html
 The grand sire bringin' flavour to the whole game
 Mr. Smith is my motherfuckin' name
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
To the bridge
 Mr. Smith
 Talkin' 'bout Mr. Smith
 Talkin' 'bout Mr. Smith
 Talkin' 'bout Mr. Smith
 Talkin' 'bout
 Time's up, your rhyme's up, mix the lines up
 I'm about to blow the spot up with that divine touch
 I got the magnetic energetic lyrical calasthetic
 Ya, better call a medic 'coz ya look pathetic
 Guan boy it's the champion Mr. Smith
 Your niggas couldn't raise up with a forklift
 Cocked the hammer, peep out the grammar
 It's hard like Bacardi and hot like a house party
 All your so-called flavour niggas is deaded
 Your next step is where ya headed so don't forget it
 Your rhymes is beat, your steelo's scarred to scrape
 When you scream you sound muddy like a bled teeth
 I get'cha open like f-lay, 'tack you when I spray
 Lethal compositions around your way
 I'm the maniacal murderous Mr. James Smith
 Rippin' ya ass out the frame with my verbal gift
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up
 Mr. Smith you got the shit sewed up
 Work ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up















