Talib Kweli
Talib Kweli - Makes No Sense songtekst
Je score:
[Verse 1: Talib Kweli] Real niggas say “church”, catch the Holy Spirit You can hear ‘em testify, then I beat ‘em with the curse This ain’t baseball, we don’t ever let it slide Run through it like first, the tek’ll spray Then the pepper spray like pesticides and the crowd disperse Somebody on the floor is left to die, that’s how it go What you expect? There’s metal detectors at the door That’s how you know that we in a prison Whether it’s the club, or the school, hospital or the fuckin’ airport Take a trip when I’m on one Gone in the head ‘til the song’s done, shit You ain’t nothin’ but a blip on the screen I remain the game for the long run, staying at the forefront No blinds – we gettin’ sky high We changing time zones, the hours fly by The Europeans, mixing weed with their tobacco for ‘em I got it locked like the Scots with the shackles on ‘em Slave psychology, trade property if you want apologies I’m a king, not in my genealogy Origin of the word etymology Eye of the pyramid like a Ponzi scheme Pull my collar up, cooler than Fonzie be And I rock, nigga, call me geology I’m the top nigga, check the discography [Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs] Real niggas say “church”, Mars, scent of God Fresh pine box for you and your squad 28 grams and it came out hard So I quite my job, got blessed in the market Burnt, work, left in the dirt Last year nigga in the came, don’t perp Gibbs be the nigga with the pounds and work Bet you’ll probably be the next rap nigga in a skirt Get brake, scrape, put him in his place Price on your head, got a dub in his face All my dogs eat off the same plate Shoot a nigga, get a charge, get out the same day And I know a nigga itching to do me the same way What do it really matter? We livin’ the same shit Never looking forward to getting my brains lit But it’ll probably be a nigga I slang and hang with Yeah, enemies come with smiles, but I see their disguises I done seen friends turn into straight frauds So the fake shit don’t surprise me In the lab with a spoon and a hot stove Most of y’all niggas couldn’t survive me . 38, young goon with a snub-nosed Born and raised on Gangster Alley [Verse 3: Jon Connor] I’m not giving a fuck, which means I’m not giving in Enemy touched, keeping my virginity clutched, I’m not giving it up Spitting murder, I’m probably not somebody you want to make an enemy of Every syllable is killin’ ‘em, death is a minimum Outcome when you lettin’ Freddie with machetes in your living room I’m living through the visuals, I’m giving you connect with every individual And they’re just saying that he’s lyrical… No, nigga, I’m the realest – raised in the jungle with gorillas Ain’t too many heroes and there’s way too many villains Niggas goin’ crazy over money, probably need to be committed They commited to seeing these killings And walking away like they don’t know who did it Time ain’t on your side So be happy when you see the other side of a minute Half-aware niggas witness homicides when they chillin’ Just another day in my city – just another day in Fly City Gonna be funny with another nigga’s money Better make sure a motherfucker die silly, it ain’t pretty Poverty done got to me, no you can’t take it out of me Talk is cheap, motherfucker, it’s like I just hit the lottery Got to be niggas spitting that comedy, not a nominee Spitting a monopoly ‘til I’m living like Tommy Lee Shit too real – and these niggas too fake It’s my time – these niggas too late My city too real – so I stay like that And we don’t give no fuck – ‘cause we was raised like that Gone…