Public Enemy
Lsd
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Размер
3.27 МБ
Битрейт
160 кбит/c
Длительность
2:59
53
| Добавлена 20 февраля 2008 пользователем AND1 |
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Текст песни Lsd
Told ya buffalo soldier
Fell to the ground like folgers
Couldn№t hold the boulder
Fancy dancer paralyzed for an answer
In the hip hop game but the rap got cancer
Tumors poppin from the middle of rumors
Generation x be the end of baby boomers
Is the next generation headed for doom
Control the soul and you got a got a
Truck fulla fertilizer blowin up the spot
Think it№s terrorism the border line№s hot
Check the passports tap the telephone
Surprise they home grown
And one of your fuckin own
It№s dat same ol shit - dat same ol game
From that same ol gang up to that same ol thing
Now what i see say you know me
I pour a metaphor of lsd
I don№t know what yall thinkin about
But if you know like i know
You better strap on your seatbelt
Cause you in for a long ride
Now i be damn i been a man
Figure i never call myself a nigger
To get benjamans
What№s love got to do wit what you got
Not a whole lot / no forgot oh this shit is hot
Spendin all the cheddar for clothes
Wit a sign foreclosed on the front mud
Lost in dominoes
Now the heads tell tales
How the dead bled and fled
Now they livin up in the bed
Instead they seize us like jesus
Married to the mob did a sloppy job in hempstead
Lord had mercy wanna curse me
New world order got my ass drownin in the water
Now what you stuck to the west
That funk to the east is phat
Atl be krunk dirty south
Fell to the ground like folgers
Couldn№t hold the boulder
Fancy dancer paralyzed for an answer
In the hip hop game but the rap got cancer
Tumors poppin from the middle of rumors
Generation x be the end of baby boomers
Is the next generation headed for doom
Control the soul and you got a got a
Truck fulla fertilizer blowin up the spot
Think it№s terrorism the border line№s hot
Check the passports tap the telephone
Surprise they home grown
And one of your fuckin own
It№s dat same ol shit - dat same ol game
From that same ol gang up to that same ol thing
Now what i see say you know me
I pour a metaphor of lsd
I don№t know what yall thinkin about
But if you know like i know
You better strap on your seatbelt
Cause you in for a long ride
Now i be damn i been a man
Figure i never call myself a nigger
To get benjamans
What№s love got to do wit what you got
Not a whole lot / no forgot oh this shit is hot
Spendin all the cheddar for clothes
Wit a sign foreclosed on the front mud
Lost in dominoes
Now the heads tell tales
How the dead bled and fled
Now they livin up in the bed
Instead they seize us like jesus
Married to the mob did a sloppy job in hempstead
Lord had mercy wanna curse me
New world order got my ass drownin in the water
Now what you stuck to the west
That funk to the east is phat
Atl be krunk dirty south
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