Song | Samba Hop |
Artist | Buckshot LeFonque |
Album | Music Evolution |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : DaCosta, Marsalis | |
Even if it's jazz in the quiet storm | |
Bebop converted in a hip hop form | |
(Repeat) | |
Visions of a musical plateau | |
Thoughts fill my mind | |
So I draw back and take aim | |
Lyrical shots blast through the darkness | |
When I spark this | |
I leave an undescribable blood stain | |
Hold fast, no need to panic | |
There's no slipping or sliding to the other side | |
I know who I am | |
You know who you are | |
Leave it at that | |
As we go on a historical joy ride | |
No need for brakes | |
No need for gas | |
For now we're living in a brand-new era | |
As long as you're doin' it the way that you wanna | |
Just forget about those threats of terror | |
They're irrelevant | |
My element of rap goes back-to-back | |
With anyone who has doubts | |
That my rhyme skill | |
Helps minds build | |
While lines fill | |
and that's what it's all about | |
Well I'll be | |
Can you see what I see | |
Someone took it to a whole new level | |
and as I think | |
My mind's on the brink | |
Some consider me as a rebel | |
A rap devil | |
Controlled by society | |
The variety wants to see what I'll do to react | |
So, I ease the pain | |
Third eye lets it rain from the brain all over the track | |
So my cause is to find flaws and correct them | |
Dissect them | |
Fill me a note that I wrote | |
That clears and clean the throat | |
Final antidote | |
Reachin' in my bags of tricks | |
I need to fix | |
Gettin' ready for Armageddon | |
There's a villian in my adrenaline dressed in blood | |
And you never wanna let 'em see you sweating | |
What's you bettin' | |
'Cause the race is beginning to set | |
Gunshots let you know when to ride | |
Yippe kay yeah | |
Hopin' I say something that's wack | |
But I got just more than my pride | |
So, as I release | |
The mark of the beast is erased from the back of | |
my head | |
Can't bear the fact | |
Wanna come attack a man that's black | |
But I'm leaving all the negative fed | |
It's dead |
zuo qu : DaCosta, Marsalis | |
Even if it' s jazz in the quiet storm | |
Bebop converted in a hip hop form | |
Repeat | |
Visions of a musical plateau | |
Thoughts fill my mind | |
So I draw back and take aim | |
Lyrical shots blast through the darkness | |
When I spark this | |
I leave an undescribable blood stain | |
Hold fast, no need to panic | |
There' s no slipping or sliding to the other side | |
I know who I am | |
You know who you are | |
Leave it at that | |
As we go on a historical joy ride | |
No need for brakes | |
No need for gas | |
For now we' re living in a brandnew era | |
As long as you' re doin' it the way that you wanna | |
Just forget about those threats of terror | |
They' re irrelevant | |
My element of rap goes backtoback | |
With anyone who has doubts | |
That my rhyme skill | |
Helps minds build | |
While lines fill | |
and that' s what it' s all about | |
Well I' ll be | |
Can you see what I see | |
Someone took it to a whole new level | |
and as I think | |
My mind' s on the brink | |
Some consider me as a rebel | |
A rap devil | |
Controlled by society | |
The variety wants to see what I' ll do to react | |
So, I ease the pain | |
Third eye lets it rain from the brain all over the track | |
So my cause is to find flaws and correct them | |
Dissect them | |
Fill me a note that I wrote | |
That clears and clean the throat | |
Final antidote | |
Reachin' in my bags of tricks | |
I need to fix | |
Gettin' ready for Armageddon | |
There' s a villian in my adrenaline dressed in blood | |
And you never wanna let ' em see you sweating | |
What' s you bettin' | |
' Cause the race is beginning to set | |
Gunshots let you know when to ride | |
Yippe kay yeah | |
Hopin' I say something that' s wack | |
But I got just more than my pride | |
So, as I release | |
The mark of the beast is erased from the back of | |
my head | |
Can' t bear the fact | |
Wanna come attack a man that' s black | |
But I' m leaving all the negative fed | |
It' s dead |
zuò qǔ : DaCosta, Marsalis | |
Even if it' s jazz in the quiet storm | |
Bebop converted in a hip hop form | |
Repeat | |
Visions of a musical plateau | |
Thoughts fill my mind | |
So I draw back and take aim | |
Lyrical shots blast through the darkness | |
When I spark this | |
I leave an undescribable blood stain | |
Hold fast, no need to panic | |
There' s no slipping or sliding to the other side | |
I know who I am | |
You know who you are | |
Leave it at that | |
As we go on a historical joy ride | |
No need for brakes | |
No need for gas | |
For now we' re living in a brandnew era | |
As long as you' re doin' it the way that you wanna | |
Just forget about those threats of terror | |
They' re irrelevant | |
My element of rap goes backtoback | |
With anyone who has doubts | |
That my rhyme skill | |
Helps minds build | |
While lines fill | |
and that' s what it' s all about | |
Well I' ll be | |
Can you see what I see | |
Someone took it to a whole new level | |
and as I think | |
My mind' s on the brink | |
Some consider me as a rebel | |
A rap devil | |
Controlled by society | |
The variety wants to see what I' ll do to react | |
So, I ease the pain | |
Third eye lets it rain from the brain all over the track | |
So my cause is to find flaws and correct them | |
Dissect them | |
Fill me a note that I wrote | |
That clears and clean the throat | |
Final antidote | |
Reachin' in my bags of tricks | |
I need to fix | |
Gettin' ready for Armageddon | |
There' s a villian in my adrenaline dressed in blood | |
And you never wanna let ' em see you sweating | |
What' s you bettin' | |
' Cause the race is beginning to set | |
Gunshots let you know when to ride | |
Yippe kay yeah | |
Hopin' I say something that' s wack | |
But I got just more than my pride | |
So, as I release | |
The mark of the beast is erased from the back of | |
my head | |
Can' t bear the fact | |
Wanna come attack a man that' s black | |
But I' m leaving all the negative fed | |
It' s dead |