Eat 'Em Up L Chill

(album: Mama Said Knock You Out - 1990)

Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)

Bring on the moes and hoes
Don't snooze or doze 'cause I'm ripping up shows
Hold your nose, dead bodies are around
I leave scratch marks under the tears of a clown
I write rhymes that shine like lipstick
So much material, but not materialistic
Imperial styles I use
When the mic is lifted, the crowd is amused
Come with it if you feel you're full-fledged
Or yell, "Geronimo!" and jump off the edge
Your E-N-D is near when I appear
The stage is yours, but wait until the smoke clears
Rhyme sayer and I'm here to lay a load
So watch a player when he's playing in player mode
Uncle L's bad and you're soon to say
'Cause I rip the mic until the tune decay

Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)

MCs are dumb, I catch 'em in a dragnet
You're not complete, I'm battling a fragment
So creative and witty and outstanding
And I be demanding that you're abandoned
In the desert or a wild west town
While I'm at your crib on a cherry-go-round
Where will she stop? No one knows
Like I said before, bring on the moes and hoes
I know my ABCs and my Ps and Qs
Just chill and listen to the rhyme cruise
All aboard the cord, there's a reward
Some were ignored when they toured for the bored
The crowd wasn't loud, lyrics weren't endowed
Took a crack of the 40 and went to show 'em how
You like me now, but you didn't before
'Cause you forgot I was raw

Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)

Uh
Future of the funk, uh
Go 'head, baby
Do it
Go 'head, baby
Do it
Yeah, do it

Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Yo, eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Uh, eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Yeah, eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Yo, eat 'em up, L)

It's so visual the way I'm throwing down
Visualize MCs going down
In a barrage of bullets combinated with rhymes
The moral of the story is I'ma get mines
I saw the cordless, boy, I'm gonna house that
Your rhymes are cheesy, you found 'em in a mouse trap
Don't try to front while the freestyle's dropping
He wants to battle, he must be needle-popping
You better notify your next of kin
'Cause when I begin it's like a needle to the skin
If you wasn't prepared then you ought to be scared
But even if you was, you're aware what the rhyme does
I remember when you was an amateur
Writing your rhymes, staring at my signature
Bought the album, analyzed the style
Tsk-tsk (Achoo), God bless you, child
I'm unique when I speak to a beat
Another rapper'll fall when the mission's complete
I daze and amaze, my display's a faze
Every phrase is a maze as Uncle L slays
The competition that's lost in a freestyle
'Cause on the mic I'm the golden child
With the magical wand that they're calling a mic
And when MC's approach it turns into a spike

Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Chill (Eat 'em up, L)
Why don't you just chill? (Eat 'em up, L)

Yeah
Yeah, I wanna say what's up to my man Kool Herc
And my man Afrika Bambaataa and the Zulu Nation
Know what what I'm sayin'?
My man Marley Marl and DJ Clash
My man B-Blast
Rush Town, Def Jam, we in the house
Of course I gotta say what's up to my homeboys EPMD
Yeah, I get busy
Peace