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Skupina:
OUTLANDISH
Album:
Bread in barrels of water
Leto:
2003
Naslov pesmi:
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Besedilo pesmi:
[Chorus] Peelo Gutter ka pani peelo Kabhi na kabhi to peelo Me hoon hero tu hai zero [Rapverse1 (Waqas)] Don't even go there kid you know I'm out of your damn reach Your talk is cheap at least I practice what I teach And when all systems fail you return to the beats But got nothing to say, the chosen one for defeat And I spot you in the crowd while I flash in the spotlight How you wish you could be more like me and bust over beats tight And reach out to these kids 'cause when I speak you know they listen I paid the king a visit now he delivers pizza in prison You said I was bizarre don't watch stars mob floors You see I was hardcore if you gave me less I made it more But fuck that one love baby let's hit for that cheddar Basically we the same I just make it look better [Chorus] [Rapverse2 (Lenny)] Toma del arroyo de los celos, perros Te lo digo en la lengua de mi amigo, peelo Te duele toda rima que yo escribo, y sigo Siendo en estos montes yo el mero, mero Hijo de la gran p*** Un momento, respeto a la madre tuya Porque eres tu quien es la puta Pobrecito toma mi rima y mis contratos Quieres estar en mis zapatos En la supuesta rampa de la fama No vendas la carne antes mata la vaca No estas listo nino Para una guerra verbal Es a mi al que siempre te van a comparar [Translation:] Drink of the rivulet of jealousy, dogs Now I'll say it in his native tongue, peelo You hurting by every single rhyme I write, and I keep Been in this countryside the fucking one Son of a b**** Hold it!! Respect to your mama Coz it is you who's the bitch Poor little thing, here you have my rhyme and my contracts You want to be in my shoes In the so-called spotlight You know you can't sell the meat before killing the cow You ain't ready kid To a verbal war It will always be me who you gonna be compare to [Chorus] [Rapverse3 (Isam)] You claim that I'm a mammas boy Cuz I don't smoke or drink alcohol She claims that I'm criminal like last weeks thief at the mall Some say I don't sound like hip hop suppose to sound Ain't got no L.A, N.Y, Dirty South type of sound That's what I'm trying say I was born and raised here Let the Source Magazine cross the sea and represent here Tell them how we felt the day Pac got shot While they were screaming pour some liquor We prayed all night in the mosque Tell them how best "pop of the year" is "rap of the year" Fuck being nominated 6 times give me "rock the year" Ask Jay-B, he'll tell ya, no stormy weather Not even the ugliest typhoon could ruin this set up I was laughing, TZZZ!!! All the way to the bank Changed the whole game based on a pop album prank Hell next year for the fun of it We do it again, again and again 2000 and 3, 4, 10
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