Текст песни Styles Of Beyond - Easy Back It Up

2000 Fold
Жанр: Rap / Hip-Hop / Underground Rap
Исполнитель: Styles Of Beyond
Альбом: 2000 Fold
Длительность: 03:02
Рейтинг: 590
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: myz-myz

Текст:

It was 11:33, just wakin up to write Got plans to meet my man at the jam tonight Got a call from Tiger Chan, he said, "Whassup Tak'?" Yo my car broke down, meet me at the bus stop "What time?" About five, I'll be ready when I'm done 4:22, turn twenty-one, so you know Threw on my shades to block the rays from the sun I stepped out the door and now my day's begun So I'm walkin down the block, think about that girl Britney Knowin that I'm goin to the club to get tipsy If I step out of line, would she soon forget me I don't know - I'm Dazed and Confused like a hippie Waitin on the corner for the four-door Honda Picked me up, with the switch seat recliner Yo I hear the horn blowin from these girls behind us I turned around to look and they got all obnoxious They recognize the face, "Can we get your autograph?" Yo I turned back to Ryu and we started to laugh "We got a show to do tonight," that's what I yelled out the window They pulled up on the side, with a pen and pad for info One had pretty eyes, with the buttermilk complexion So I ran it down the line with the directions, yo.. Everytime we got a jam to make we make sure the beat knocks, we dig up in the crate Once the vibe is straight, we packin the place It's the S.O.B., put the needle on the plate (What what what what?) Put the needle on the plate (uhh.. uhh..) Put the needle on the plate (yeah UH) "Wait back it up, hup, easy back it up" -> Q-Tip (repeat 3X) [Ryu] Steppin out in style, three dimensional light beams Knight Queens and Club Kings swingin hype cling Trippin over bottles of Moet on my way to the dancefloor Pan-thers, freakin my folklore My bloody roar buddy deplore cunning game to transform and trap a dame flat in nine seconds we take aim Change to battle beast, that'll cease, any attempt in petty offensive diss to my click We move quick, you might not even recognize my presence Thirty second assassination sedation weapon Step into the club, all these thugs wanna shoot me Because I'm well known at the spot, they call me roofies Hittin hard rocks when I travel through veins and wake up in three days not remeberin thangs The reign of the poetry prince of darkness the martian Stompin, from California to Boston, Lost in Space so take caution, face the facts, harken Eagle talon attack, pack it up often Audio abortion, distortion offense Corporate, decaptitated three-headed horsemen Shredded portions of serial murder endorsement Course across clubs and fold my armed forces Everytime we got a jam to make we make sure the beat knocks, we dig up in the crate Once the vibe is straight, we packin the place It's the S.O.B., put the needle on the plate (What what what what?) Put the needle on the plate (uhh.. uhh..) Put the needle on the plate (yeah UH)
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