Instrumenter
Ensembles
Genres
Komponister
Udøvende kunstnere

Tekster: Coolio. El Cool Magnifico. Knock Out Kings.

1, 2, 3, 4

You in the ring with a thing, not a man
And what I bring is shots to the body
That'll make a fool sing, soprano
Fall setter, ain't nuttin' better
Massive concussion, career over, no discussion

Both eyes closed, broke nose, cheeks swole
You can't see, vision like a peep ho
This ain't no slug-fest or exhibition
It's a disaster, cold, beat-down, tragic massacre

Call in the doctor, he's been rocked and socked-up
Call the police, the champ's insane and oughta be locked up
Pay-per-viewers have to try to not to light the whole block up
He's hurt and he's wobbling and he can't keep his things up

He's gettin' banged up
Uppercuts, overhead right, short left jab
Right into a change up
Big thing, he's down and canvas smell like dirt, don't it?
El Cool Magnifico crush all weak opponents

These combinations are taking me places
Knockin' my opponents outta they shoes with tight laces
Makin' faces as they body hit the canvas in pain
The championship belt is what I taste and claim survivin' the game

Pound for pound, you got the best man standing right here
'Round for 'round, I got the cowards runnin' in fear
Town for town, fight fans stand and cheer
Your knockout king is up in the ring

1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, 4 to the body and 2 to the chin
1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, ding, ding, now it's on again

Uh, 'round for 'round and pound for pound
It's the king of the ring with a hundred knockouts
Uppercuts to the chin, knock your mouthpiece out
Got your corner-man yellin' that you ready to pout

Yeah, he hit the ropes in front of a sell-out crowd
Stand-down punk, ain't no need to go 12 'rounds
The belt was mine soon as you heard the bell sound
Roper Doe style, boxin' with the best around

Taped-up wrist, swing your fist and miss
When I crush your face it feels like a tonne of bricks
After the standin' eight head to your corner to sit
Manager screamin' at you, "Fight back, move his fists"

It don't matter 'cause he walked dead into by bisteses
Don't get mad 'cause you lost to the top of the lists
I'm sick, cold with the work, demented and vicious
Plus I'm pretty so the ring girls be blowin' me kisses

1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, 4 to the body and 2 to the chin
1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, ding, ding, now it's on again

Body-blow, uppercut, accidental elbow
Ming Lou's in the ring, hell no
Ain't gon' happen, stage all tappin'
Skills quickly end all the gossipin' and yappin'

I'm talkin' Roy Jones ability
Knock anybody up in the facility
Black guy after I attack guys
Spectators like Johnny Gill
Amazed, ain't no love only hate

Let me hit you with these boulders
Servin' you from the shoulders
Step into the range of my blows and get rolled up
Folded-up wit' your snot-box leakin' on ya
Hold him up so I can put bangs and bings on ya

You see two of me, don't ya?
From the series of punches
To your dome and your kidneys
Should'a did you some crunches
I throw thangs in bunches
Got me grabbin' and punkin' now
Tryna knock the grill up out your mouth

1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, 4 to the body and 2 to the chin
1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, ding, ding, now it's on again

1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, 4 to the body and 2 to the chin
1, 2, 3, killer, 4, 5, 6, spitter
7, 8, 9, 10, ding, ding, now it's on again

Nylige forespørgsler