The Last Emperor

The Last Emperor - Bums songtekst

Je score:

It's like one for the microphone  two for the camera
 Three for deadbeats  vagabonds  panhandlers
 Street scramblers  alleyway managers
 Substance abusers  born losers  mic damagers
 Everybody screamin'  representin'  keep it real
 But I'm still a worthless bum tryin' to get a record deal
 Peep my lingo  and every wise word the man speaks
 I've been living on the streets  and haven't showered for weeks
 But time moves forward, there's no looking back
 I'm homeless in pursuit of a record contract
 I wish my whole crew was paid in full like Rakim's
 But instead we're malnourished with skeleton-like limbs
 Instead of a land cruiser with BBS rims
 I got a busted pair of boots, and they're not even Tims
 See most mc's claim their pockets stay knotted
 Puttin' money in the bank, but point blank, I ain't got it
 I used to pump chums, for money in lump sums
 But now I snatch crumbs with a thousand young bums
 I'm the everfresh, what I still possess remains measureless
 My brain contains jewels and gems like a treasure chest
 Raw deal, no lie, that's the real
 And I can't remember the last time I had a hot meal
 Society labels me a bum, and that's right
 My crew keeps it tight, bums of the world let's unite

 Chorus:
 This one's for all the neighborhood bums
 To all my brothers in the gutters, in the slums
 In every city, no matter where you're from
 To all my boys, make noise if your bum
 (Repeat)

 Verse 2:
 Allow me to explain the mission, the pain infliction
 I entertain so listen, my style rocks like Jane's Addiction
 Mc's don't impress me, they know not to test me
 We'll be at each other's throats like Mr. Belvedere and Wesley
 Especially, when wack rappers open up their mouse traps
 They know not to tangle with these bums from the outback
 You see you can't miss what you've never had
 The life of a bum really isn't half bad
 We're never alone, cause bums travel in packs
 We combine fine lyrics with underground tracks
 We rock the best shows, placin' mc's on stress mode
 You can tell a fellow bum from his raggedy dress code
 We rock raggedy kicks, and wear raggedy pants
 We rock raggedy mics, and sing raggedy jams
 like,

 (Group of bums)
 The bums have the right to lay the down the law
 The bum train is leavin' from track number four

 The bummy engineer is the Last Emperor
 Hard rock like The Thing from the Fantastic Four
 While most mc's rhyme about guns and shootin'
 I drop science on their domes just like Sir Isaac Newton
 Big up to Q in Brownsville, that never runs
 Lift up your fist and shout, long live the bums

 Chorus

 Verse 3:
 Crack your brew, light your spliff, it doesn't make a dif
 Creamy light peanut butter, choosy mothers choose Jif
 Overlord of the poor, man not a myth
 It's the Last Emperor that you don't want to flex with
 I'll place mental lacerations and allesions
 On mc's and domestic and foreign legions
 I might be flambeau, but read a book of allesions
 The emperor switches up styles every season
 In the spring, I do my thing, relaxin' and that's it
 In the summer, just like a pirate, I attack ships
 But winter maybe, my favorite, one of all, but Jamal
 Is a Legend of the Fall, just like Brad Pitt
 I'm known to lyrically black shots on behalf of have nots
 Lock it down with the sound, equipped with chains and padlocks
 No gadgets, no gimmicks, no tricks up my sleeve
 And I won't play the Superman role like Christopher Reeve
 See you can learn a lot from a dummy
 Keep it real, better yet in '98, let's keep it bummy
 Bein' broke is no prob, you don't have to rob
 But if you're frustrated cause you can't find a job
 Have no fear the emperor is here to help ya
 Respect to all my bums, I'll catch you back at the shelter
Vind dit lied op:
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amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: Rock Market

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 2003

Taal: Engels

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