LRC歌词
作词 : Bean, Grice
Who be first to catch this beat down?
My rappages be the source
Ego trip remain victory, and no loss
Rap sheet show you details of wars in streets
Where the most live, catch vibe and blaze heat
Double xl [xxl] kings who rush through, got right on
Quick to stress ya, sound crew to get a mic on
Math lets the plates spin
Consecutive hits, promoters' face grin
The dawn catch fist, keep the paper direct wire
See them jake be tire
Unlike the story that echoes out with chronic liars
Like those who feast on hogs, eat murder dogs
A village voice kid with his heart and soul calm
Killa bees produce the honey, that fortify the platinum
Plus the dj claws fiend to scratch them
Thus street team takes shots of criticism
Promotional vehicles wiffin wit mad rhythm
With the lockout of one of our source sports
We spice the stand and launch the stage on the ball court
During the first half, number one draft
Rap lords, swing swords, slam microphone, shatter billboards
Forty-eight in sight, after inhalin the herb
Vision impaired, when the silhouette emerged
One nut out the clan
Get your whole click banned from radio
Pd's cut your raps man
Forcin me to move on from one world to another
On the gulf, from the fuel jet to hover
Take cover wit the radical, urban latino
No hip-hop connection wit us and janet reno
I do an interview and they aim to trace my essence
To know more than is necessary blunts your weapon
My group's nova, remain unsober
And serve high times wit king cobras
I shoulder low-post mc's, your whole style ?lafeast?
Second to get your word up, then the troops unleash
Creative ?low fling?, to the grand opening
Wit my ray gun scoping, you're hoping
Uniforms be fridged when they walk the black beat
In the heat, of razors exposin fresh meat
In bedrock and gambling - rolling stone, out of zone
Where they can't monitor my 'xact poem
Collide wit the tiger beat, rappin raga
Ebony eyes, folks see the saga
Who be first to catch this beat down?
My rappages be the source
Ego trip remain victory, and no loss
Rap sheet show you details of wars in streets
Where the most live, catch vibe and blaze heat
Double xl [xxl] kings who rush through, got right on
Quick to stress ya, sound crew to get a mic on
Math lets the plates spin
Consecutive hits, promoters' face grin
The dawn catch fist, keep the paper direct wire
See them jake be tire
Unlike the story that echoes out with chronic liars
Like those who feast on hogs, eat murder dogs
A village voice kid with his heart and soul calm
Killa bees produce the honey, that fortify the platinum
Plus the dj claws fiend to scratch them
Thus street team takes shots of criticism
Promotional vehicles wiffin wit mad rhythm
With the lockout of one of our source sports
We spice the stand and launch the stage on the ball court
During the first half, number one draft
Rap lords, swing swords, slam microphone, shatter billboards
Forty-eight in sight, after inhalin the herb
Vision impaired, when the silhouette emerged
One nut out the clan
Get your whole click banned from radio
Pd's cut your raps man
Forcin me to move on from one world to another
On the gulf, from the fuel jet to hover
Take cover wit the radical, urban latino
No hip-hop connection wit us and janet reno
I do an interview and they aim to trace my essence
To know more than is necessary blunts your weapon
My group's nova, remain unsober
And serve high times wit king cobras
I shoulder low-post mc's, your whole style ?lafeast?
Second to get your word up, then the troops unleash
Creative ?low fling?, to the grand opening
Wit my ray gun scoping, you're hoping
Uniforms be fridged when they walk the black beat
In the heat, of razors exposin fresh meat
In bedrock and gambling - rolling stone, out of zone
Where they can't monitor my 'xact poem
Collide wit the tiger beat, rappin raga
Ebony eyes, folks see the saga
文本歌词
作词 : Bean, GriceWho be first to catch this beat down?My rappages be the sourceEgo trip remain victory, and no lossRap sheet show you details of wars in streetsWhere the most live, catch vibe and blaze heatDouble xl
kings who rush through, got right onQuick to stress ya, sound crew to get a mic onMath lets the plates spinConsecutive hits, promoters' face grinThe dawn catch fist, keep the paper direct wireSee them jake be tireUnlike the story that echoes out with chronic liarsLike those who feast on hogs, eat murder dogsA village voice kid with his heart and soul calmKilla bees produce the honey, that fortify the platinumPlus the dj claws fiend to scratch themThus street team takes shots of criticismPromotional vehicles wiffin wit mad rhythmWith the lockout of one of our source sportsWe spice the stand and launch the stage on the ball courtDuring the first half, number one draftRap lords, swing swords, slam microphone, shatter billboardsForty-eight in sight, after inhalin the herbVision impaired, when the silhouette emergedOne nut out the clanGet your whole click banned from radioPd's cut your raps manForcin me to move on from one world to anotherOn the gulf, from the fuel jet to hoverTake cover wit the radical, urban latinoNo hip-hop connection wit us and janet renoI do an interview and they aim to trace my essenceTo know more than is necessary blunts your weaponMy group's nova, remain unsoberAnd serve high times wit king cobrasI shoulder low-post mc's, your whole style ?lafeast?Second to get your word up, then the troops unleashCreative ?low fling?, to the grand openingWit my ray gun scoping, you're hopingUniforms be fridged when they walk the black beatIn the heat, of razors exposin fresh meatIn bedrock and gambling - rolling stone, out of zoneWhere they can't monitor my 'xact poemCollide wit the tiger beat, rappin ragaEbony eyes, folks see the saga
kings who rush through, got right onQuick to stress ya, sound crew to get a mic onMath lets the plates spinConsecutive hits, promoters' face grinThe dawn catch fist, keep the paper direct wireSee them jake be tireUnlike the story that echoes out with chronic liarsLike those who feast on hogs, eat murder dogsA village voice kid with his heart and soul calmKilla bees produce the honey, that fortify the platinumPlus the dj claws fiend to scratch themThus street team takes shots of criticismPromotional vehicles wiffin wit mad rhythmWith the lockout of one of our source sportsWe spice the stand and launch the stage on the ball courtDuring the first half, number one draftRap lords, swing swords, slam microphone, shatter billboardsForty-eight in sight, after inhalin the herbVision impaired, when the silhouette emergedOne nut out the clanGet your whole click banned from radioPd's cut your raps manForcin me to move on from one world to anotherOn the gulf, from the fuel jet to hoverTake cover wit the radical, urban latinoNo hip-hop connection wit us and janet renoI do an interview and they aim to trace my essenceTo know more than is necessary blunts your weaponMy group's nova, remain unsoberAnd serve high times wit king cobrasI shoulder low-post mc's, your whole style ?lafeast?Second to get your word up, then the troops unleashCreative ?low fling?, to the grand openingWit my ray gun scoping, you're hopingUniforms be fridged when they walk the black beatIn the heat, of razors exposin fresh meatIn bedrock and gambling - rolling stone, out of zoneWhere they can't monitor my 'xact poemCollide wit the tiger beat, rappin ragaEbony eyes, folks see the saga
