Can't Think 歌词
| 歌曲 | Can't Think |
| 歌手 | LL Cool J |
| 专辑 | G.O.A.T. Featuring James T. Smith: The Greatest of All Time |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Tyrone Fyffe & James Todd Smith | |
| 作词 : Fyfee, Smith | |
| You ever get to the point where you so frustrated | |
| You ready to give up? | |
| You ready to end it all? | |
| Don't do it dog, word up | |
| I don't care if you | |
| Black, White, | |
| Latin, Asian, whatever | |
| We all go through pain | |
| When you can't think use your soul, baby | |
| Preliminary discussions is over with, the verdict is in | |
| I took the rap throne back | |
| I reigned like krills in eighty-seven, my name is on the map | |
| It feels like a razor down the middle of my back | |
| They slept on my lyrical ability to blow | |
| Gave another nigga credit for inventin' my flow | |
| I'm a child of | |
| God, witness the risin' son | |
| From the cradle to the grave, | |
| I remain number one | |
| This thing of ours, got competition takin' red showers | |
| Grievin' mothers callin 1-800-flowers | |
| My repertoire burn your ashes in the urn | |
| Is it God or money that really make the world turn? | |
| Grab your gun, separate the ones from the real funds | |
| Inhale deep and hold it in your lungs | |
| The streets was requestin' some original | |
| LLA soundtrack for niggaz that was raised in [Incomprehensible] | |
| They lookin' for a leader that can guide 'em through the maze | |
| Smoke filled rooms, breathin' in purple haze | |
| Nigga's on the bricks his whole life | |
| He ain't got nuttin' to live for, so fuck livin' right | |
| But if you stay in the rain like hurricane | |
| Gold melts down but it don't fear flames | |
| Toxic, lethal, psychologically evil | |
| Genocide was committed on the | |
| Black people | |
| And the ghetto is a trap with glass walls | |
| Should I sell drugs, be a rap thug, or play ball? | |
| We end up in the grave anyway | |
| The average cat and | |
| LL Cool JIt's a never ending cycle, life and death | |
| Until then may my mic stay blessed, to the death | |
| I can't think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I'm losin' my mind? | |
| I can't think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can't think! | |
| Even though | |
| I'm a one of a kind | |
| I can't think! | |
| I want the paper, that's just the bottom line | |
| I can't think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can't think! | |
| I'd rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can't think! | |
| It's all about survival | |
| God"You know the epilogue by James Todd" | |
| Put your life on the line, you runnin' out of time | |
| The coroner's callin', she know she on a nigga mind | |
| Amongst the dogs, real cats is hard to find | |
| Even a nigga moms hate it when he start to shine | |
| Get the money and run, dodge the devil and his sons | |
| Spit powerful parables like a sermon has begun | |
| Fuck the turntables up, leave the | |
| DJ awestruck | |
| Attitude is what, keep the razor blade tucked | |
| Too much flossin'll get your reputation touched | |
| Too much rappin'll get your big mouth shut | |
| Protect your neck nigga, you'll get it in the gut | |
| You wearin' a vest? | |
| What if you get your throat cut | |
| Sold your soul for a dollar, now you havin' bad luck | |
| Used to keep a bad bitch in the crib baggin' up | |
| Player here, player there, nigga turned you out | |
| But never told you beware | |
| Never told you that black love supposed to be shared | |
| And you never judge a woman by the texture of her hair | |
| Fancy cars and gold teeth, | |
| G-strings and things | |
| The almighty dollar replace the wedding ring | |
| The Ark of the | |
| Covenant was held by a king | |
| I ain't tradin' my soul in for skins and chrome rims | |
| I can't think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I'm losin' my mind? | |
| I can't think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can't think! | |
| Even though | |
| I'm a one of a kind | |
| I can't think! | |
| I want the paper, that's just the bottom line | |
| I can't think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can't think! | |
| I'd rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can't think! | |
| It's all about survival | |
| God"You know the epilogue by James Todd" | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| The dawn, of a new millennium, came to pass | |
| The world revolves around sex or cash | |
| The Black man's motto, "Kiss my ass!" | |
| Shorties in kindergarten are strapped, ready to blast | |
| All I ever seen was killers and dope fiends | |
| From Feds magazine to the heart of killer | |
| QueensBronx and | |
| Brooklyn and everything up in between | |
| No matter what, you always got a | |
| Judas on your team | |
| Givin' it to the world and | |
| I'm tellin' it like it is | |
| Tossin' lyrical daggers and sendin' 'em in your wig | |
| Know where the body's buried, | |
| I ain't sayin' where it is | |
| Raised inside the ghetto, but damn it | |
| I wanna live | |
| The legendary master of lyrical combat | |
| But ain't no competition, ain't nobody to go at | |
| So I'ma take the time and spit a universal verse | |
| Hit the streets with a blessin' and erase the curse | |
| I can't think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I'm losin' my mind? | |
| I can't think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can't think! | |
| Even though | |
| I'm a one of a kind | |
| I can't think! | |
| I want the paper, that's just the bottom line | |
| I can't think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can't think! | |
| I'd rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can't think! | |
| It's all about survival | |
| God"You know the epilogue by James Todd" |
| zuo qu : Tyrone Fyffe James Todd Smith | |
| zuo ci : Fyfee, Smith | |
| You ever get to the point where you so frustrated | |
| You ready to give up? | |
| You ready to end it all? | |
| Don' t do it dog, word up | |
| I don' t care if you | |
| Black, White, | |
| Latin, Asian, whatever | |
| We all go through pain | |
| When you can' t think use your soul, baby | |
| Preliminary discussions is over with, the verdict is in | |
| I took the rap throne back | |
| I reigned like krills in eightyseven, my name is on the map | |
| It feels like a razor down the middle of my back | |
| They slept on my lyrical ability to blow | |
| Gave another nigga credit for inventin' my flow | |
| I' m a child of | |
| God, witness the risin' son | |
| From the cradle to the grave, | |
| I remain number one | |
| This thing of ours, got competition takin' red showers | |
| Grievin' mothers callin 1800flowers | |
| My repertoire burn your ashes in the urn | |
| Is it God or money that really make the world turn? | |
| Grab your gun, separate the ones from the real funds | |
| Inhale deep and hold it in your lungs | |
| The streets was requestin' some original | |
| LLA soundtrack for niggaz that was raised in Incomprehensible | |
| They lookin' for a leader that can guide ' em through the maze | |
| Smoke filled rooms, breathin' in purple haze | |
| Nigga' s on the bricks his whole life | |
| He ain' t got nuttin' to live for, so fuck livin' right | |
| But if you stay in the rain like hurricane | |
| Gold melts down but it don' t fear flames | |
| Toxic, lethal, psychologically evil | |
| Genocide was committed on the | |
| Black people | |
| And the ghetto is a trap with glass walls | |
| Should I sell drugs, be a rap thug, or play ball? | |
| We end up in the grave anyway | |
| The average cat and | |
| LL Cool JIt' s a never ending cycle, life and death | |
| Until then may my mic stay blessed, to the death | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I' m losin' my mind? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Even though | |
| I' m a one of a kind | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I want the paper, that' s just the bottom line | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I' d rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can' t think! | |
| It' s all about survival | |
| God" You know the epilogue by James Todd" | |
| Put your life on the line, you runnin' out of time | |
| The coroner' s callin', she know she on a nigga mind | |
| Amongst the dogs, real cats is hard to find | |
| Even a nigga moms hate it when he start to shine | |
| Get the money and run, dodge the devil and his sons | |
| Spit powerful parables like a sermon has begun | |
| Fuck the turntables up, leave the | |
| DJ awestruck | |
| Attitude is what, keep the razor blade tucked | |
| Too much flossin' ll get your reputation touched | |
| Too much rappin' ll get your big mouth shut | |
| Protect your neck nigga, you' ll get it in the gut | |
| You wearin' a vest? | |
| What if you get your throat cut | |
| Sold your soul for a dollar, now you havin' bad luck | |
| Used to keep a bad bitch in the crib baggin' up | |
| Player here, player there, nigga turned you out | |
| But never told you beware | |
| Never told you that black love supposed to be shared | |
| And you never judge a woman by the texture of her hair | |
| Fancy cars and gold teeth, | |
| Gstrings and things | |
| The almighty dollar replace the wedding ring | |
| The Ark of the | |
| Covenant was held by a king | |
| I ain' t tradin' my soul in for skins and chrome rims | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I' m losin' my mind? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Even though | |
| I' m a one of a kind | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I want the paper, that' s just the bottom line | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I' d rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can' t think! | |
| It' s all about survival | |
| God" You know the epilogue by James Todd" | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| The dawn, of a new millennium, came to pass | |
| The world revolves around sex or cash | |
| The Black man' s motto, " Kiss my ass!" | |
| Shorties in kindergarten are strapped, ready to blast | |
| All I ever seen was killers and dope fiends | |
| From Feds magazine to the heart of killer | |
| QueensBronx and | |
| Brooklyn and everything up in between | |
| No matter what, you always got a | |
| Judas on your team | |
| Givin' it to the world and | |
| I' m tellin' it like it is | |
| Tossin' lyrical daggers and sendin' ' em in your wig | |
| Know where the body' s buried, | |
| I ain' t sayin' where it is | |
| Raised inside the ghetto, but damn it | |
| I wanna live | |
| The legendary master of lyrical combat | |
| But ain' t no competition, ain' t nobody to go at | |
| So I' ma take the time and spit a universal verse | |
| Hit the streets with a blessin' and erase the curse | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I' m losin' my mind? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Even though | |
| I' m a one of a kind | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I want the paper, that' s just the bottom line | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I' d rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can' t think! | |
| It' s all about survival | |
| God" You know the epilogue by James Todd" |
| zuò qǔ : Tyrone Fyffe James Todd Smith | |
| zuò cí : Fyfee, Smith | |
| You ever get to the point where you so frustrated | |
| You ready to give up? | |
| You ready to end it all? | |
| Don' t do it dog, word up | |
| I don' t care if you | |
| Black, White, | |
| Latin, Asian, whatever | |
| We all go through pain | |
| When you can' t think use your soul, baby | |
| Preliminary discussions is over with, the verdict is in | |
| I took the rap throne back | |
| I reigned like krills in eightyseven, my name is on the map | |
| It feels like a razor down the middle of my back | |
| They slept on my lyrical ability to blow | |
| Gave another nigga credit for inventin' my flow | |
| I' m a child of | |
| God, witness the risin' son | |
| From the cradle to the grave, | |
| I remain number one | |
| This thing of ours, got competition takin' red showers | |
| Grievin' mothers callin 1800flowers | |
| My repertoire burn your ashes in the urn | |
| Is it God or money that really make the world turn? | |
| Grab your gun, separate the ones from the real funds | |
| Inhale deep and hold it in your lungs | |
| The streets was requestin' some original | |
| LLA soundtrack for niggaz that was raised in Incomprehensible | |
| They lookin' for a leader that can guide ' em through the maze | |
| Smoke filled rooms, breathin' in purple haze | |
| Nigga' s on the bricks his whole life | |
| He ain' t got nuttin' to live for, so fuck livin' right | |
| But if you stay in the rain like hurricane | |
| Gold melts down but it don' t fear flames | |
| Toxic, lethal, psychologically evil | |
| Genocide was committed on the | |
| Black people | |
| And the ghetto is a trap with glass walls | |
| Should I sell drugs, be a rap thug, or play ball? | |
| We end up in the grave anyway | |
| The average cat and | |
| LL Cool JIt' s a never ending cycle, life and death | |
| Until then may my mic stay blessed, to the death | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I' m losin' my mind? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Even though | |
| I' m a one of a kind | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I want the paper, that' s just the bottom line | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I' d rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can' t think! | |
| It' s all about survival | |
| God" You know the epilogue by James Todd" | |
| Put your life on the line, you runnin' out of time | |
| The coroner' s callin', she know she on a nigga mind | |
| Amongst the dogs, real cats is hard to find | |
| Even a nigga moms hate it when he start to shine | |
| Get the money and run, dodge the devil and his sons | |
| Spit powerful parables like a sermon has begun | |
| Fuck the turntables up, leave the | |
| DJ awestruck | |
| Attitude is what, keep the razor blade tucked | |
| Too much flossin' ll get your reputation touched | |
| Too much rappin' ll get your big mouth shut | |
| Protect your neck nigga, you' ll get it in the gut | |
| You wearin' a vest? | |
| What if you get your throat cut | |
| Sold your soul for a dollar, now you havin' bad luck | |
| Used to keep a bad bitch in the crib baggin' up | |
| Player here, player there, nigga turned you out | |
| But never told you beware | |
| Never told you that black love supposed to be shared | |
| And you never judge a woman by the texture of her hair | |
| Fancy cars and gold teeth, | |
| Gstrings and things | |
| The almighty dollar replace the wedding ring | |
| The Ark of the | |
| Covenant was held by a king | |
| I ain' t tradin' my soul in for skins and chrome rims | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I' m losin' my mind? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Even though | |
| I' m a one of a kind | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I want the paper, that' s just the bottom line | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I' d rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can' t think! | |
| It' s all about survival | |
| God" You know the epilogue by James Todd" | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| Think about it yo, think about it | |
| The dawn, of a new millennium, came to pass | |
| The world revolves around sex or cash | |
| The Black man' s motto, " Kiss my ass!" | |
| Shorties in kindergarten are strapped, ready to blast | |
| All I ever seen was killers and dope fiends | |
| From Feds magazine to the heart of killer | |
| QueensBronx and | |
| Brooklyn and everything up in between | |
| No matter what, you always got a | |
| Judas on your team | |
| Givin' it to the world and | |
| I' m tellin' it like it is | |
| Tossin' lyrical daggers and sendin' ' em in your wig | |
| Know where the body' s buried, | |
| I ain' t sayin' where it is | |
| Raised inside the ghetto, but damn it | |
| I wanna live | |
| The legendary master of lyrical combat | |
| But ain' t no competition, ain' t nobody to go at | |
| So I' ma take the time and spit a universal verse | |
| Hit the streets with a blessin' and erase the curse | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Why do I feel | |
| I' m losin' my mind? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Could it be the ill beats and rhymes? | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Even though | |
| I' m a one of a kind | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I want the paper, that' s just the bottom line | |
| I can' t think! | |
| Mo' murder every day around the way | |
| I can' t think! | |
| I' d rather get paid and parlay | |
| I can' t think! | |
| It' s all about survival | |
| God" You know the epilogue by James Todd" |
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