Song | Witness (1 Hope) |
Artist | Roots Manuva |
Album | Run Come Save Me |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Smith | |
Well well well (x3) | |
Taskmaster burst | |
The bionic zit splitter | |
Breakneck speed | |
we drown ten pints of bitter | |
we lean all day | |
and some say that ain't productive | |
but that depends upon the demon that you're stuck with | |
'cos right now | |
I see clearer than most | |
I sit here contented with this cheese on toast | |
I feel the pain of a third world famine | |
Segue | |
we count them blessings and keep jamming | |
'tis him | |
scumbag, scum of the earth | |
his worth was nil | |
until he gained the skill of tongues | |
from 15 years young straight to my grey back self | |
I stay top shelf material | |
Jerk chicken, jerk fish | |
Break away slave bliss | |
Generate G's and then we stash them in the Swiss | |
Fools can't see this | |
Audio pistols | |
a fistful of hip hop donzai | |
Progressin' in the flesh | |
Esoteric quotes most frightening | |
Duppy took hold of my hand while I was writing | |
Let go me ting Duppy | |
Let go me hand | |
I summon up the power of banana clan... | |
Witness the fitness | |
The cruffatin liveth | |
One hope one quest. (Repeat x4) | |
Swigging that deep root juice | |
Now we deh 'pon it boost | |
Set them spirit them loose | |
Go 'head go slash up the noose | |
With conclusive proof of both the truth | |
The right | |
'cos whether we hitch hike or push bike | |
or travel kinda trash | |
manifest that | |
with wholesome roots rap | |
manifest that yeah | |
I do my zing way | |
Ain't nutten else I know | |
Gone up in the life | |
With this I-ragged born flow | |
Squeeze the pain from my belly and set my soul free | |
Travel over ocean land and sea | |
Faced nuff stress and difficulty | |
Flung back from the brink | |
Gwan'ing kind of stink | |
We don't give a frig about what them fools think | |
Frig your network | |
Our dett work will speak for itself | |
Proof of the trophy | |
And the champion belt | |
Come sun come rain come hailstone pelt. | |
(CHORUS) | |
Bwana Simit | |
With some old time shit | |
let the whole world know | |
we on some off key tip | |
mega manic | |
when time the pressure start lick | |
by the hook or by the crook | |
by the poop or by the kick | |
he's sickly cryptic | |
spitting the code | |
and most proud to present that cruffatin mode | |
and it shows that they bro's done | |
seen a few sleights | |
life throws scenarios | |
reality bites | |
we in collision with the beast | |
lost we religion and we can't get no peace | |
idiot weakheart want to take I for chief | |
stoop to their level and we plotting cold grief | |
but we should know that | |
discipline maketh the geez | |
separation of the DAT from the rat that's a must | |
proceed set speed with the cruffatin touch | |
proceed set speed | |
crufatin yow... | |
(CHORUS) |
zuo ci : Smith | |
Well well well x3 | |
Taskmaster burst | |
The bionic zit splitter | |
Breakneck speed | |
we drown ten pints of bitter | |
we lean all day | |
and some say that ain' t productive | |
but that depends upon the demon that you' re stuck with | |
' cos right now | |
I see clearer than most | |
I sit here contented with this cheese on toast | |
I feel the pain of a third world famine | |
Segue | |
we count them blessings and keep jamming | |
' tis him | |
scumbag, scum of the earth | |
his worth was nil | |
until he gained the skill of tongues | |
from 15 years young straight to my grey back self | |
I stay top shelf material | |
Jerk chicken, jerk fish | |
Break away slave bliss | |
Generate G' s and then we stash them in the Swiss | |
Fools can' t see this | |
Audio pistols | |
a fistful of hip hop donzai | |
Progressin' in the flesh | |
Esoteric quotes most frightening | |
Duppy took hold of my hand while I was writing | |
Let go me ting Duppy | |
Let go me hand | |
I summon up the power of banana clan... | |
Witness the fitness | |
The cruffatin liveth | |
One hope one quest. Repeat x4 | |
Swigging that deep root juice | |
Now we deh ' pon it boost | |
Set them spirit them loose | |
Go ' head go slash up the noose | |
With conclusive proof of both the truth | |
The right | |
' cos whether we hitch hike or push bike | |
or travel kinda trash | |
manifest that | |
with wholesome roots rap | |
manifest that yeah | |
I do my zing way | |
Ain' t nutten else I know | |
Gone up in the life | |
With this Iragged born flow | |
Squeeze the pain from my belly and set my soul free | |
Travel over ocean land and sea | |
Faced nuff stress and difficulty | |
Flung back from the brink | |
Gwan' ing kind of stink | |
We don' t give a frig about what them fools think | |
Frig your network | |
Our dett work will speak for itself | |
Proof of the trophy | |
And the champion belt | |
Come sun come rain come hailstone pelt. | |
CHORUS | |
Bwana Simit | |
With some old time shit | |
let the whole world know | |
we on some off key tip | |
mega manic | |
when time the pressure start lick | |
by the hook or by the crook | |
by the poop or by the kick | |
he' s sickly cryptic | |
spitting the code | |
and most proud to present that cruffatin mode | |
and it shows that they bro' s done | |
seen a few sleights | |
life throws scenarios | |
reality bites | |
we in collision with the beast | |
lost we religion and we can' t get no peace | |
idiot weakheart want to take I for chief | |
stoop to their level and we plotting cold grief | |
but we should know that | |
discipline maketh the geez | |
separation of the DAT from the rat that' s a must | |
proceed set speed with the cruffatin touch | |
proceed set speed | |
crufatin yow... | |
CHORUS |
zuò cí : Smith | |
Well well well x3 | |
Taskmaster burst | |
The bionic zit splitter | |
Breakneck speed | |
we drown ten pints of bitter | |
we lean all day | |
and some say that ain' t productive | |
but that depends upon the demon that you' re stuck with | |
' cos right now | |
I see clearer than most | |
I sit here contented with this cheese on toast | |
I feel the pain of a third world famine | |
Segue | |
we count them blessings and keep jamming | |
' tis him | |
scumbag, scum of the earth | |
his worth was nil | |
until he gained the skill of tongues | |
from 15 years young straight to my grey back self | |
I stay top shelf material | |
Jerk chicken, jerk fish | |
Break away slave bliss | |
Generate G' s and then we stash them in the Swiss | |
Fools can' t see this | |
Audio pistols | |
a fistful of hip hop donzai | |
Progressin' in the flesh | |
Esoteric quotes most frightening | |
Duppy took hold of my hand while I was writing | |
Let go me ting Duppy | |
Let go me hand | |
I summon up the power of banana clan... | |
Witness the fitness | |
The cruffatin liveth | |
One hope one quest. Repeat x4 | |
Swigging that deep root juice | |
Now we deh ' pon it boost | |
Set them spirit them loose | |
Go ' head go slash up the noose | |
With conclusive proof of both the truth | |
The right | |
' cos whether we hitch hike or push bike | |
or travel kinda trash | |
manifest that | |
with wholesome roots rap | |
manifest that yeah | |
I do my zing way | |
Ain' t nutten else I know | |
Gone up in the life | |
With this Iragged born flow | |
Squeeze the pain from my belly and set my soul free | |
Travel over ocean land and sea | |
Faced nuff stress and difficulty | |
Flung back from the brink | |
Gwan' ing kind of stink | |
We don' t give a frig about what them fools think | |
Frig your network | |
Our dett work will speak for itself | |
Proof of the trophy | |
And the champion belt | |
Come sun come rain come hailstone pelt. | |
CHORUS | |
Bwana Simit | |
With some old time shit | |
let the whole world know | |
we on some off key tip | |
mega manic | |
when time the pressure start lick | |
by the hook or by the crook | |
by the poop or by the kick | |
he' s sickly cryptic | |
spitting the code | |
and most proud to present that cruffatin mode | |
and it shows that they bro' s done | |
seen a few sleights | |
life throws scenarios | |
reality bites | |
we in collision with the beast | |
lost we religion and we can' t get no peace | |
idiot weakheart want to take I for chief | |
stoop to their level and we plotting cold grief | |
but we should know that | |
discipline maketh the geez | |
separation of the DAT from the rat that' s a must | |
proceed set speed with the cruffatin touch | |
proceed set speed | |
crufatin yow... | |
CHORUS |