Bruise Brothers 歌词
| 歌曲 | Bruise Brothers |
| 歌手 | Blue Scholars |
| 专辑 | Blue Scholars |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Geologic | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be, | |
| The blue is for the night time mood-swingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it's like to not be free | |
| I want to be the conduit movin' the music among the masses | |
| Hit the spot rock upon sight like Medusa as the true surpass the wicked | |
| Used to sneak in shows without a ticket | |
| 'Till I slowly got familiar with the local promoters | |
| Hopin' to blow, focused on the open mic | |
| Not claimin' to be the dopest I just want to be noticed | |
| To find producers in the circuit to work with, | |
| For certain it was hurtin' at first fuckin' with studio virgins | |
| To purge the wack, I download the upgraded version | |
| Now performin our percussions | |
| Constructed up by the Persian beatmaker extraordinaire | |
| You talk about the journey but we're takin' it there | |
| Payin' a fare, say it again said | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be | |
| The blue is for the night time mood-swingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it's like to not be free | |
| The blue is for the water and sky | |
| In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness | |
| The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded | |
| That the body isn't made to be timeless | |
| The blue is for the ocean we cross to foreign lands | |
| Where we work with our hands, and home is where we stand | |
| Where the poetry swims, in the lunacy of moonshine light | |
| Reflected right upon the surface of skin | |
| Verses burst out the pen, like it hurt not to be written | |
| You immature amateur biters are copy kittens | |
| In the coffee shop kids are spitting individualistic | |
| Petty bourgeois pseudo revolutionary bullshit | |
| Don't miss this resistance is more than just a fist in a wristband | |
| And incense, that won't make you free, fuck a bachelor's degree | |
| I'd much rather defeat the evil thieves in my scenery | |
| Seemingly detached | |
| Indeed as we proceed to see the heathen meet his match | |
| And everything not givin' up, we take it back | |
| I bleed upon a track, my verse written in red | |
| The blue is for the balance, yes and everything I said, I said | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be | |
| The blue is for the night time mood-swingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it's like to not be free | |
| The blue is for the water and sky | |
| In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness | |
| The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded | |
| That the body isn't made to be timeless | |
| It isn't made to be timeless | |
| This body, these hands, we work with | |
| On the surface of skin, diggin' deeper | |
| The blue is for the collar | |
| The blue is for the water | |
| The blue is... is everything | |
| The blue is black | |
| The blue is white | |
| The blue is my own |
| zuo qu : Geologic | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be, | |
| The blue is for the night time moodswingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it' s like to not be free | |
| I want to be the conduit movin' the music among the masses | |
| Hit the spot rock upon sight like Medusa as the true surpass the wicked | |
| Used to sneak in shows without a ticket | |
| ' Till I slowly got familiar with the local promoters | |
| Hopin' to blow, focused on the open mic | |
| Not claimin' to be the dopest I just want to be noticed | |
| To find producers in the circuit to work with, | |
| For certain it was hurtin' at first fuckin' with studio virgins | |
| To purge the wack, I download the upgraded version | |
| Now performin our percussions | |
| Constructed up by the Persian beatmaker extraordinaire | |
| You talk about the journey but we' re takin' it there | |
| Payin' a fare, say it again said | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be | |
| The blue is for the night time moodswingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it' s like to not be free | |
| The blue is for the water and sky | |
| In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness | |
| The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded | |
| That the body isn' t made to be timeless | |
| The blue is for the ocean we cross to foreign lands | |
| Where we work with our hands, and home is where we stand | |
| Where the poetry swims, in the lunacy of moonshine light | |
| Reflected right upon the surface of skin | |
| Verses burst out the pen, like it hurt not to be written | |
| You immature amateur biters are copy kittens | |
| In the coffee shop kids are spitting individualistic | |
| Petty bourgeois pseudo revolutionary bullshit | |
| Don' t miss this resistance is more than just a fist in a wristband | |
| And incense, that won' t make you free, fuck a bachelor' s degree | |
| I' d much rather defeat the evil thieves in my scenery | |
| Seemingly detached | |
| Indeed as we proceed to see the heathen meet his match | |
| And everything not givin' up, we take it back | |
| I bleed upon a track, my verse written in red | |
| The blue is for the balance, yes and everything I said, I said | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be | |
| The blue is for the night time moodswingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it' s like to not be free | |
| The blue is for the water and sky | |
| In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness | |
| The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded | |
| That the body isn' t made to be timeless | |
| It isn' t made to be timeless | |
| This body, these hands, we work with | |
| On the surface of skin, diggin' deeper | |
| The blue is for the collar | |
| The blue is for the water | |
| The blue is... is everything | |
| The blue is black | |
| The blue is white | |
| The blue is my own |
| zuò qǔ : Geologic | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be, | |
| The blue is for the night time moodswingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it' s like to not be free | |
| I want to be the conduit movin' the music among the masses | |
| Hit the spot rock upon sight like Medusa as the true surpass the wicked | |
| Used to sneak in shows without a ticket | |
| ' Till I slowly got familiar with the local promoters | |
| Hopin' to blow, focused on the open mic | |
| Not claimin' to be the dopest I just want to be noticed | |
| To find producers in the circuit to work with, | |
| For certain it was hurtin' at first fuckin' with studio virgins | |
| To purge the wack, I download the upgraded version | |
| Now performin our percussions | |
| Constructed up by the Persian beatmaker extraordinaire | |
| You talk about the journey but we' re takin' it there | |
| Payin' a fare, say it again said | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be | |
| The blue is for the night time moodswingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it' s like to not be free | |
| The blue is for the water and sky | |
| In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness | |
| The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded | |
| That the body isn' t made to be timeless | |
| The blue is for the ocean we cross to foreign lands | |
| Where we work with our hands, and home is where we stand | |
| Where the poetry swims, in the lunacy of moonshine light | |
| Reflected right upon the surface of skin | |
| Verses burst out the pen, like it hurt not to be written | |
| You immature amateur biters are copy kittens | |
| In the coffee shop kids are spitting individualistic | |
| Petty bourgeois pseudo revolutionary bullshit | |
| Don' t miss this resistance is more than just a fist in a wristband | |
| And incense, that won' t make you free, fuck a bachelor' s degree | |
| I' d much rather defeat the evil thieves in my scenery | |
| Seemingly detached | |
| Indeed as we proceed to see the heathen meet his match | |
| And everything not givin' up, we take it back | |
| I bleed upon a track, my verse written in red | |
| The blue is for the balance, yes and everything I said, I said | |
| The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother | |
| And my father plus the scholars that we be | |
| The blue is for the night time moodswingin' tune | |
| Of every blues man singin' what it' s like to not be free | |
| The blue is for the water and sky | |
| In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness | |
| The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded | |
| That the body isn' t made to be timeless | |
| It isn' t made to be timeless | |
| This body, these hands, we work with | |
| On the surface of skin, diggin' deeper | |
| The blue is for the collar | |
| The blue is for the water | |
| The blue is... is everything | |
| The blue is black | |
| The blue is white | |
| The blue is my own |
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