Farmers Blvd. (our Anthem) Lyrics - Mama Said Knock You Out - Ll Cool J

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