Talib Kweli

Talib Kweli - Guerrilla Monsoon Rap songtekst

Je score:

[Kweli talking]

Yeah...

Yeah! That's what I'm talkin about!

Let's do it... Kanye West, c'mon turn me up and

Black Thought, c'mon turn me up and

Pharoahe Monch, c'mon turn me up and

Talib Kweli in the house with



[Hook: Kanye West]

Guerrilla monsoon rap - all the shorties like "who dat?"

Got the whole crowd like "how ya do dat?"

Nigga you, get smacked 'til ya blue black

And ya crew, give me dap like true dat

We come through and all the shorties like "who dat?"

Got the whole crowd like "how ya do dat?"

Nigga you, get smacked 'til ya blue black

And ya crew, give me dap like true dat



[Black Thought]

Yo, I hit these emcees with the grip of death like I was a Vulcan

Ain't a lot of "ifs" an "ands", it's just straight talkin

It's hard to swallow at times, so take portions

Bitin off more than you can chew, create offense

Emcee species endangered like dolphins

Rappers is spittin nails into they own coffins (c'mon)

Hear come the Dundee moves rocket-launchin (yeah)

Black Thought, quit playin him close and back up off him



[Talib Kweli]

Kweli -- spruce to the tree, Bruce to the Lee

The real emcee, that your favorite rapper used to be

One by one I knock 'em out like Schoolly D - my rhymes is eulogy

A flea could move a tree, before ya think ya movin me

I black and blue emcees - actin new to me, get smacked stupidly

That lack skills, like the black community lack unity (uh)

Still my rhymes heard like Ali DePhrase

Step off the stage to shouts of "Kweli boomayyay!!"



[Pharoahe Monch]

See these four emcees came to get down

Rearrange the rap game, change ya whole sound

Nigga YOU, got ta, understand the plot ta

Movin and groovin and always improvin alot-ta

I'll outfox the, average Porsche ya Boxster talk

Break the bank on some old Frank Sinatra (New York...)

Slash Chi-Town, slash Philly

Check the blast from Genevo, you can get slapped silly



[Hook]



[Black Thought]

Okay... my sound drenches, each of the five senses

And hold the shock value of electrified fences

It's truth or consequences, ride wit us or against us

Is you a dedicated soldier, or you a princess, dog?

I'm in it to win it and not for the wealth

Got a crib with a Grammy and a gat on the shelf

Nan nigga competition, gotta battle myself

And me and Kweli on a mission, gettin Pharoahe for help



[Talib Kweli]

From natives walkin in trailor tears to players sippin Belvedere

We always comin well prepared, and all my dogs' smellin fear

PLUS, even my niggaz from the Bede say you hella-scared

Truth or consequences, and all senses be well-aware

Your style - under-developed there, hell if I care

What hardship you claim to see, but I can tell by your stare

Nigga you fugazi, sayin ya crew blazin

like sayin Miss Cleo is a true Jamaican, we makin...



[Pharoahe Monch]

Guerrilla monsoon rap, smell the fumes, get in tune wit it

When I attack your city, y'all gon' think Dr. Doom did it

Spit it like white trash in seed-spittin contests

With a vendetta that sent a betta letter bomb to Congress

I'm pissed - cumulus clouds of ominous

Words of the Thor, the rawness that'll restore ya calmness

Unless, you wanna be leg and armless

That's parapaleg' for those who believe in bomb threats



[Hook]



[various ad-libs til fade]
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden