歌曲 | Oh Sweet America |
歌手 | Group Home |
专辑 | A Tear for the Ghetto |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Aguilar, Felder, Heath | |
{melachi the nutcracker} | |
Aiyo, new york tracks, keep me phat like that | |
I exercise with fitness, to support my back | |
It's going on black, and i'm out to get mines | |
Bust in the place with a new york rhyme | |
Yo some people are mindless, and don't know what the time is | |
Mess around with the wrong one, and get expired | |
I'm gettin fired, offa the smoke and the blunts | |
Killin big bids offa a gangsta hunt | |
Don't front, what do you want? i push a trick with a stunt | |
We got out of town hits, and like george likes pits | |
Cuz i flex with a polo around my wrist | |
Nothing changed... | |
{lil dap} | |
Uh, my bad decision in the game got me flippin on cats | |
Now that i'm back, puttin brooklyn down on the map | |
Cuz you know this camera's on me, and my sons right now | |
Pimpin our sounds, watch how we tear shit down | |
I cause blow a catastrophe, i master thee | |
The game of rap, so don't fuck with dap, i dance with my track | |
You bust you neen, i bust my nena back | |
Rhymes sharp like thumbtacks, with enough contacts | |
To blow my enemies off the map, if they try to attack... | |
Chorus 2x: lil dap | |
Oh sweet america, how could it be? | |
Can't see my people dying in the streets no more | |
Got to hustle from the bottom just to feed the poor | |
Understanding what's right, realizing what's wrong | |
*(second time, the last line gets left out)* | |
{melachi the nutcracker} | |
Yo i salute the mic, when i take flight | |
Plus my styles real hype, and i'm feeling allright | |
So go with the flow, let's see what all of you know | |
I flip like g.i. joe, with mad potential | |
I'm about to get mine, you know it's about that time | |
My people losing their mind, off the group home rhyme | |
Murdering crime, people on the streets playing for keeps | |
Brand new jeeps, riding thru on the creep | |
Who care? i guess that everyone is scarred | |
Better be preparred, cuz the worst is near | |
The group home is here, open your ears and stand clear | |
Crack your bears, we've been doing this for years | |
Chorus 2x | |
{lil dap} | |
How could it be? cuz if you bust for me, i have to bust for you | |
These old school rules, got me spittin lyrics at you | |
I'm thinking hard and serious and going back to the time | |
When cats were scarred to death to even say that they rhyme | |
Cuz it was off the meters, niggas had to throw their dick beaters | |
Block parties with heaters, no crooked to feed us | |
It's 7 days in a week, 12 months in a year | |
But between the nonsense we'll drop a jewel this year | |
Keep your eyes open, stoppin off the ends when we rock | |
Poppin your clutch, and starving mc's to rock | |
And walk with fear, keepin my momentum in gears | |
Excess is near, my niggas can smell it in your ear | |
2000 and beyond, group home are bombing ya, son | |
My crew number one, no competion | |
Chorus 3x |
zuo qu : Aguilar, Felder, Heath | |
melachi the nutcracker | |
Aiyo, new york tracks, keep me phat like that | |
I exercise with fitness, to support my back | |
It' s going on black, and i' m out to get mines | |
Bust in the place with a new york rhyme | |
Yo some people are mindless, and don' t know what the time is | |
Mess around with the wrong one, and get expired | |
I' m gettin fired, offa the smoke and the blunts | |
Killin big bids offa a gangsta hunt | |
Don' t front, what do you want? i push a trick with a stunt | |
We got out of town hits, and like george likes pits | |
Cuz i flex with a polo around my wrist | |
Nothing changed... | |
lil dap | |
Uh, my bad decision in the game got me flippin on cats | |
Now that i' m back, puttin brooklyn down on the map | |
Cuz you know this camera' s on me, and my sons right now | |
Pimpin our sounds, watch how we tear shit down | |
I cause blow a catastrophe, i master thee | |
The game of rap, so don' t fuck with dap, i dance with my track | |
You bust you neen, i bust my nena back | |
Rhymes sharp like thumbtacks, with enough contacts | |
To blow my enemies off the map, if they try to attack... | |
Chorus 2x: lil dap | |
Oh sweet america, how could it be? | |
Can' t see my people dying in the streets no more | |
Got to hustle from the bottom just to feed the poor | |
Understanding what' s right, realizing what' s wrong | |
second time, the last line gets left out | |
melachi the nutcracker | |
Yo i salute the mic, when i take flight | |
Plus my styles real hype, and i' m feeling allright | |
So go with the flow, let' s see what all of you know | |
I flip like g. i. joe, with mad potential | |
I' m about to get mine, you know it' s about that time | |
My people losing their mind, off the group home rhyme | |
Murdering crime, people on the streets playing for keeps | |
Brand new jeeps, riding thru on the creep | |
Who care? i guess that everyone is scarred | |
Better be preparred, cuz the worst is near | |
The group home is here, open your ears and stand clear | |
Crack your bears, we' ve been doing this for years | |
Chorus 2x | |
lil dap | |
How could it be? cuz if you bust for me, i have to bust for you | |
These old school rules, got me spittin lyrics at you | |
I' m thinking hard and serious and going back to the time | |
When cats were scarred to death to even say that they rhyme | |
Cuz it was off the meters, niggas had to throw their dick beaters | |
Block parties with heaters, no crooked to feed us | |
It' s 7 days in a week, 12 months in a year | |
But between the nonsense we' ll drop a jewel this year | |
Keep your eyes open, stoppin off the ends when we rock | |
Poppin your clutch, and starving mc' s to rock | |
And walk with fear, keepin my momentum in gears | |
Excess is near, my niggas can smell it in your ear | |
2000 and beyond, group home are bombing ya, son | |
My crew number one, no competion | |
Chorus 3x |
zuò qǔ : Aguilar, Felder, Heath | |
melachi the nutcracker | |
Aiyo, new york tracks, keep me phat like that | |
I exercise with fitness, to support my back | |
It' s going on black, and i' m out to get mines | |
Bust in the place with a new york rhyme | |
Yo some people are mindless, and don' t know what the time is | |
Mess around with the wrong one, and get expired | |
I' m gettin fired, offa the smoke and the blunts | |
Killin big bids offa a gangsta hunt | |
Don' t front, what do you want? i push a trick with a stunt | |
We got out of town hits, and like george likes pits | |
Cuz i flex with a polo around my wrist | |
Nothing changed... | |
lil dap | |
Uh, my bad decision in the game got me flippin on cats | |
Now that i' m back, puttin brooklyn down on the map | |
Cuz you know this camera' s on me, and my sons right now | |
Pimpin our sounds, watch how we tear shit down | |
I cause blow a catastrophe, i master thee | |
The game of rap, so don' t fuck with dap, i dance with my track | |
You bust you neen, i bust my nena back | |
Rhymes sharp like thumbtacks, with enough contacts | |
To blow my enemies off the map, if they try to attack... | |
Chorus 2x: lil dap | |
Oh sweet america, how could it be? | |
Can' t see my people dying in the streets no more | |
Got to hustle from the bottom just to feed the poor | |
Understanding what' s right, realizing what' s wrong | |
second time, the last line gets left out | |
melachi the nutcracker | |
Yo i salute the mic, when i take flight | |
Plus my styles real hype, and i' m feeling allright | |
So go with the flow, let' s see what all of you know | |
I flip like g. i. joe, with mad potential | |
I' m about to get mine, you know it' s about that time | |
My people losing their mind, off the group home rhyme | |
Murdering crime, people on the streets playing for keeps | |
Brand new jeeps, riding thru on the creep | |
Who care? i guess that everyone is scarred | |
Better be preparred, cuz the worst is near | |
The group home is here, open your ears and stand clear | |
Crack your bears, we' ve been doing this for years | |
Chorus 2x | |
lil dap | |
How could it be? cuz if you bust for me, i have to bust for you | |
These old school rules, got me spittin lyrics at you | |
I' m thinking hard and serious and going back to the time | |
When cats were scarred to death to even say that they rhyme | |
Cuz it was off the meters, niggas had to throw their dick beaters | |
Block parties with heaters, no crooked to feed us | |
It' s 7 days in a week, 12 months in a year | |
But between the nonsense we' ll drop a jewel this year | |
Keep your eyes open, stoppin off the ends when we rock | |
Poppin your clutch, and starving mc' s to rock | |
And walk with fear, keepin my momentum in gears | |
Excess is near, my niggas can smell it in your ear | |
2000 and beyond, group home are bombing ya, son | |
My crew number one, no competion | |
Chorus 3x |