歌曲 | Fire for the People |
歌手 | Blue Scholars |
专辑 | Bayani Redux |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Geologic, Mohajerjasbi ... | |
now what I spit, it's medicine for the sick | |
an attempt to get a grip before it all starts to slip | |
and be the call and response from the bottomless pit | |
I remain nonchalant when the drama get thick | |
the last call, ballin' up my palm in a fist | |
the most common misperception is this | |
drop a tape rock a show sign a line | |
hit the road hit some hoes videos | |
next you know, you'll be bawlin and shit | |
but you'll be calling it quits | |
when all the cards start to fall in the ditch | |
cause temptation is so hard to resist | |
no there's no such thing as an unjustified existence | |
except perhaps a few thousand rappers in this business | |
finish what I start scientifically, strategically | |
specifically addressin' the oblivion we livin' in | |
my brethren and sisteren, I'm speaking are you listening | |
freedom being imprisoned by the television image | |
if you let it instead get affected by your habitat | |
ask a few questions, quit a few bad habits and after that | |
handle this similar to how Xavier McDaniel did in ‘86 | |
we're talking just a little less shit | |
and lately being mindful of the babies I admit | |
but at nighttime I sit serenaded by the blues of a skyline hue | |
reminding me of a time when the old was new | |
and I spark a fire for the cold and the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can't keep what they stole from the art | |
and they love to see beef ‘cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
say more jobs for the people | |
and more books for the people | |
and more music for the people | |
as the world hurls towards seven billion more listeners | |
seven hundred plus see the killed and held prisoners | |
seven thousand one hundred islands I been missing | |
cause I grind seven to five, at night I'm writing scriptures | |
as hot as the block as cold contradictions | |
pen drips with honesty I don't author fiction | |
go to competition the bone that they try to pick with me | |
and learn the moral lesson and marching forward to victory | |
no flag waving celebrating your invasion | |
you call it thanksgiving, we call it thankstaking | |
everybody looking for the ladder not the answer to the question | |
waiting till the cancer's in regression | |
fresh from the northwest the hottest thing lately | |
like white celebrities buying black and brown babies | |
got the town crazy over beats rhymes and life | |
peace with adobo grease, eggs and brown rice | |
and I spark a fire for the cold in the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can't keep what they stole from the art | |
they love to see beef ‘cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
more food for the people | |
more homes for the people | |
more clothes for the people | |
more schools for the people | |
more land for the people | |
more life for the people | |
yo, I've seen souls get sold so coldly | |
see what a dollar can do to the tired and true | |
I speak boldly, composed of a melody told | |
whenever we hold the memory close | |
no telling when the reaper fed a post and snatch a fan | |
something that you can't capture with the camera lens | |
amalgamation of a bolo and a hammerin' pen | |
the truth hurts, no wonder people rather pretend | |
I annihilate a fake persona for spare change | |
everybody, self included, is fair game | |
inherited the trait to make both ends meet | |
often make a brother feel like he gotta compete | |
but with each release I reach for peace | |
others quit to reach for the pigs from here to beacon to bridge | |
‘cause see, freedom of speech don't apply if you're silent | |
I shout like I'm trying to get heard on the island | |
and I spark the fire for the cold in the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can't keep what they stole from the art | |
and they love to see beef ‘cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
more peace for the people | |
more life for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people |
zuo qu : Geologic, Mohajerjasbi ... | |
now what I spit, it' s medicine for the sick | |
an attempt to get a grip before it all starts to slip | |
and be the call and response from the bottomless pit | |
I remain nonchalant when the drama get thick | |
the last call, ballin' up my palm in a fist | |
the most common misperception is this | |
drop a tape rock a show sign a line | |
hit the road hit some hoes videos | |
next you know, you' ll be bawlin and shit | |
but you' ll be calling it quits | |
when all the cards start to fall in the ditch | |
cause temptation is so hard to resist | |
no there' s no such thing as an unjustified existence | |
except perhaps a few thousand rappers in this business | |
finish what I start scientifically, strategically | |
specifically addressin' the oblivion we livin' in | |
my brethren and sisteren, I' m speaking are you listening | |
freedom being imprisoned by the television image | |
if you let it instead get affected by your habitat | |
ask a few questions, quit a few bad habits and after that | |
handle this similar to how Xavier McDaniel did in ' 86 | |
we' re talking just a little less shit | |
and lately being mindful of the babies I admit | |
but at nighttime I sit serenaded by the blues of a skyline hue | |
reminding me of a time when the old was new | |
and I spark a fire for the cold and the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can' t keep what they stole from the art | |
and they love to see beef ' cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
say more jobs for the people | |
and more books for the people | |
and more music for the people | |
as the world hurls towards seven billion more listeners | |
seven hundred plus see the killed and held prisoners | |
seven thousand one hundred islands I been missing | |
cause I grind seven to five, at night I' m writing scriptures | |
as hot as the block as cold contradictions | |
pen drips with honesty I don' t author fiction | |
go to competition the bone that they try to pick with me | |
and learn the moral lesson and marching forward to victory | |
no flag waving celebrating your invasion | |
you call it thanksgiving, we call it thankstaking | |
everybody looking for the ladder not the answer to the question | |
waiting till the cancer' s in regression | |
fresh from the northwest the hottest thing lately | |
like white celebrities buying black and brown babies | |
got the town crazy over beats rhymes and life | |
peace with adobo grease, eggs and brown rice | |
and I spark a fire for the cold in the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can' t keep what they stole from the art | |
they love to see beef ' cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
more food for the people | |
more homes for the people | |
more clothes for the people | |
more schools for the people | |
more land for the people | |
more life for the people | |
yo, I' ve seen souls get sold so coldly | |
see what a dollar can do to the tired and true | |
I speak boldly, composed of a melody told | |
whenever we hold the memory close | |
no telling when the reaper fed a post and snatch a fan | |
something that you can' t capture with the camera lens | |
amalgamation of a bolo and a hammerin' pen | |
the truth hurts, no wonder people rather pretend | |
I annihilate a fake persona for spare change | |
everybody, self included, is fair game | |
inherited the trait to make both ends meet | |
often make a brother feel like he gotta compete | |
but with each release I reach for peace | |
others quit to reach for the pigs from here to beacon to bridge | |
' cause see, freedom of speech don' t apply if you' re silent | |
I shout like I' m trying to get heard on the island | |
and I spark the fire for the cold in the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can' t keep what they stole from the art | |
and they love to see beef ' cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
more peace for the people | |
more life for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people |
zuò qǔ : Geologic, Mohajerjasbi ... | |
now what I spit, it' s medicine for the sick | |
an attempt to get a grip before it all starts to slip | |
and be the call and response from the bottomless pit | |
I remain nonchalant when the drama get thick | |
the last call, ballin' up my palm in a fist | |
the most common misperception is this | |
drop a tape rock a show sign a line | |
hit the road hit some hoes videos | |
next you know, you' ll be bawlin and shit | |
but you' ll be calling it quits | |
when all the cards start to fall in the ditch | |
cause temptation is so hard to resist | |
no there' s no such thing as an unjustified existence | |
except perhaps a few thousand rappers in this business | |
finish what I start scientifically, strategically | |
specifically addressin' the oblivion we livin' in | |
my brethren and sisteren, I' m speaking are you listening | |
freedom being imprisoned by the television image | |
if you let it instead get affected by your habitat | |
ask a few questions, quit a few bad habits and after that | |
handle this similar to how Xavier McDaniel did in ' 86 | |
we' re talking just a little less shit | |
and lately being mindful of the babies I admit | |
but at nighttime I sit serenaded by the blues of a skyline hue | |
reminding me of a time when the old was new | |
and I spark a fire for the cold and the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can' t keep what they stole from the art | |
and they love to see beef ' cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
say more jobs for the people | |
and more books for the people | |
and more music for the people | |
as the world hurls towards seven billion more listeners | |
seven hundred plus see the killed and held prisoners | |
seven thousand one hundred islands I been missing | |
cause I grind seven to five, at night I' m writing scriptures | |
as hot as the block as cold contradictions | |
pen drips with honesty I don' t author fiction | |
go to competition the bone that they try to pick with me | |
and learn the moral lesson and marching forward to victory | |
no flag waving celebrating your invasion | |
you call it thanksgiving, we call it thankstaking | |
everybody looking for the ladder not the answer to the question | |
waiting till the cancer' s in regression | |
fresh from the northwest the hottest thing lately | |
like white celebrities buying black and brown babies | |
got the town crazy over beats rhymes and life | |
peace with adobo grease, eggs and brown rice | |
and I spark a fire for the cold in the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can' t keep what they stole from the art | |
they love to see beef ' cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
more food for the people | |
more homes for the people | |
more clothes for the people | |
more schools for the people | |
more land for the people | |
more life for the people | |
yo, I' ve seen souls get sold so coldly | |
see what a dollar can do to the tired and true | |
I speak boldly, composed of a melody told | |
whenever we hold the memory close | |
no telling when the reaper fed a post and snatch a fan | |
something that you can' t capture with the camera lens | |
amalgamation of a bolo and a hammerin' pen | |
the truth hurts, no wonder people rather pretend | |
I annihilate a fake persona for spare change | |
everybody, self included, is fair game | |
inherited the trait to make both ends meet | |
often make a brother feel like he gotta compete | |
but with each release I reach for peace | |
others quit to reach for the pigs from here to beacon to bridge | |
' cause see, freedom of speech don' t apply if you' re silent | |
I shout like I' m trying to get heard on the island | |
and I spark the fire for the cold in the dark | |
peace and war both pumpin' soul in my heart | |
and though they can' t keep what they stole from the art | |
and they love to see beef ' cause it throws us apart | |
more fire for the people | |
more peace for the people | |
more life for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people | |
more love for the people |