Come on, yo come on (survivor, survivor)
Come on, come on, come on, come on (survivor, survivor)
Come on, come on (soul survivor)
Come on, come on, come on, come on

They said I wasn't rough, too much dough, he got an old flow
Every time you open your mouth you feel your elbow
I'll catch a felony on top of a melody
Brought a family, and dough would of been so happily
I'll beat the Laker off of a clown and chop him down to size
Sick of all these want to-be bad guys
Made loot, many G's, bought a crib where I live
Told my kids, "yo, damn, that I'm a fugitive"
Runnin' from the streets and our beats, the sad sheets, uh
A sunny beach, video hoes within reach
Farmers Boulevard, liberty and forty is gone
And E ain't put nobody on
When I came back to smack and give 'em a welt
Like belts makin' them strip and all of that
Punks better run for they guns
I'm not the one and can't nobody rule until L's done

[Chorus]
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)

I worked the Murphy on the mix
What's wrong with these stupid lunatics playin' "Joint" for a drag-bit?
I'm harder than-?find in a jar?
People wasn't rippin' these records, all of why'all would get robbed
I'm comin' straight out the barrel with your name on my arm
Blowin' the hoody of your head like a home-made bomb (BOOM!!)
I'm big and so you figured I would relax (nah!)
Don't ever sleep I'll wake ya up with an axe
The Boulevard ain't safe for my beats - drop the herb
Twenty times harder without a curse
Makin' rats flee, hardcore - and that's me!!
The baddest soloist in hip-hop history
L-L-C-to-the-O-to-the-O-L-J, so what'cha want to know?
Throw ya in the MVP on your knees G
A crowbar in your mouth, now ask me

(Chorus)

Take it to the bridge
Who's the man on the mic? (the L the L) [Repeat: x7]
Who's the man on the mic?

My territory's hard, I'm rollin' with one railguard
The microphone is my credit card
Blowin' your boots off, freeload, you're too soft
Usin' a butcher's knife to make your whole root call
I heard somebody said the skills wasn't good
I'm lettin' eighty tigers loose in this neighborhood
I pop the willies on my bike, lickin' shots
And laughin' everytime you sneak a weak paragraph in
You blowin' your mind, blunted and cocoa and time
Ain't nothing changed, you wrote another wack rhyme
I'll leave your bullet-bittled body on the curb
Lookin' slerve with a t-shirt, don't disturb the herb!
You're the next contestant tonight
Come on down to my shake clown, the slice is right
Rip your jaw out the socket, been rockin' for years
Tell the troop, you're still look with E and drop it!
As I deaf-tify your eye, competition tries to mass my size!
Buryin' the acts and your back will be rhymes and tracks
While you're sleepin' like a "sleaze-stack" believe that!

(Chorus)

Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on, come on (soul survivor), come on

(Chorus)

Writer : QUINCY JONES III, J.T. SMITH, FORTE, ZENABLE, MAYFIELD
Copyright : Lyrics © WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC