Guerrilla Monsoon Rap - Album Version (Explicit) Lyrics
| Song | Guerrilla Monsoon Rap - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Talib Kweli |
| Artist | Black Thought |
| Artist | Pharoahe Monch |
| Album | Quality |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Greene, Jamerson, McKenny ... | |
| (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 | |
| (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 Boxster talk | |
| Break the bank on some old Frank Sinatra (New York...) | |
| Slash Chi-Town, slash Philly | |
| Check the blast from Geneva, you can get slapped silly | |
| (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) | |
| 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, hittin' Pharoahe for help | |
| (Talib Kweli) | |
| From natives walkin in trail of tears to players sippin Belvedere | |
| We always comin well prepared, and all my dogs' smellin fear | |
| PLUS, even my niggaz from the Bay they 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 fool gazin, 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 | |
| (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 |
| zuo qu : Greene, Jamerson, McKenny ... | |
| 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 | |
| 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 rocketlaunchin 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 alotta | |
| I' ll outfox the, average Porsche Boxster talk | |
| Break the bank on some old Frank Sinatra New York... | |
| Slash ChiTown, slash Philly | |
| Check the blast from Geneva, you can get slapped silly | |
| 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 | |
| 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, hittin' Pharoahe for help | |
| Talib Kweli | |
| From natives walkin in trail of tears to players sippin Belvedere | |
| We always comin well prepared, and all my dogs' smellin fear | |
| PLUS, even my niggaz from the Bay they say you hellascared | |
| Truth or consequences, and all senses be wellaware | |
| Your style underdeveloped there, hell if I care | |
| What hardship you claim to see, but I can tell by your stare | |
| Nigga you fool gazin, 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 seedspittin 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 | |
| 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 |
| zuò qǔ : Greene, Jamerson, McKenny ... | |
| 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 | |
| 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 rocketlaunchin 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 alotta | |
| I' ll outfox the, average Porsche Boxster talk | |
| Break the bank on some old Frank Sinatra New York... | |
| Slash ChiTown, slash Philly | |
| Check the blast from Geneva, you can get slapped silly | |
| 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 | |
| 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, hittin' Pharoahe for help | |
| Talib Kweli | |
| From natives walkin in trail of tears to players sippin Belvedere | |
| We always comin well prepared, and all my dogs' smellin fear | |
| PLUS, even my niggaz from the Bay they say you hellascared | |
| Truth or consequences, and all senses be wellaware | |
| Your style underdeveloped there, hell if I care | |
| What hardship you claim to see, but I can tell by your stare | |
| Nigga you fool gazin, 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 seedspittin 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 | |
| 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 |
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