Station Identification 歌词
| 歌曲 | Station Identification |
| 歌手 | Channel Live |
| 专辑 | Station Identification |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Burrell, Green, Morgan | |
| What's your station identification | |
| I spark a mental cypher lasting down through revelations | |
| Take a trip into my mental cypher, I get hyper | |
| Sniping-ass MC's, seem to get me higher | |
| Like the buddah, bless the cess when I'm smoking | |
| Hawaiian when I'm rhymin cuz there ain't no time for joking | |
| Rotating lyrical rhythms like the motions of the wrist | |
| On a fag, I rag, wack MC's like Maxi | |
| Pads, you can't see me | |
| Intellectually, you shallow, mentally, you're just starving | |
| I'm rollin on em like Calvin Butts up in Harlem | |
| Wit metaphors, **** a nine and clip | |
| I make a rapper trip like white chicks in horror flicks | |
| Identify your station or ?adjustment? | |
| I'm transmitting, I'm giving MC's division, through diction | |
| Cut em half, check the math, like magician | |
| Conflicting pain on membranes | |
| I'm running shit and killing flows like some wet dreams | |
| I maintain, no static feedback when I attack | |
| Like Shaquille, oh so neal down as I appeal to the masses | |
| I slash kids to ashes and dust, get strucked | |
| As I construct skills that build, I don't be giving a **** | |
| Like chastity, my compacity's unlimited | |
| Wit no gimmick, kids can't figure my structure like pyramids | |
| I'm spirited like psychic and dead men resurrected | |
| My wisdon's like prisms when light gets reflected, check it | |
| My lyrical missiles, like heat suckers seeking | |
| Never weakening, feeding off wack rhymers give me strength | |
| Then I lenghten, wit no measure | |
| Cuz I'm the ruler of styles, I rocket, the unidentify flowing object | |
| Time for a station, identification | |
| Wack rappers, open up your eyes, time for lyrical elevation | |
| But you can't handle when I channel | |
| Entering through mental panels, melting membranes like candles | |
| Disintegrating mental matter, into ashes | |
| Steppin up to rappers, just like the Titan Clashes | |
| Bash an eyelash, my lyrical energy travels fastest | |
| When propel by the leaves of Hawaii | |
| Hardcore raps is about skills, so why do gangstas keep trying | |
| I'm breakin on these mutha****as like beat, street | |
| I beat other rappers like ?sega beats needs to beat meets? | |
| Vocal technique like Panasonic | |
| My rhythm moves in motion cuz my skills is like bionic | |
| Identification, station switched wit my lyrical hydraulics | |
| I'm cosmic, the unidentify flowing object | |
| I find that you can't defined this, other rappers are blind to this | |
| I'm seeing, you're bleeding from your sinuses | |
| Cuz I'm on a higher plane, I'll be frying brains | |
| I crack heads like cocaine addicts, automatic | |
| Dramatic, I break backs, I'm chiropractic | |
| I got mad, drastic tactics and static | |
| Gymnastic styles it seems | |
| Cuz I be flippin and balancing beams | |
| Of radiation, devastation, you're facing, no tracing | |
| You can't sketch a figure, abstract, no bullet gaps | |
| If you're wack, my rhymes are triggered, you're dying quicker | |
| I jack, cuz I rip a weak-ass rapper, I shatter | |
| Cross em, toss em, the more erratic, flow patterns them in the war zone | |
| Females, you need brail, you can't see what I'm speaking | |
| In fact, your delinquency can't see my frequency | |
| I speak to thee in tongues like the exorcist | |
| You can't test this, I resurrect wit correctness | |
| I'm defying like death is | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, check your station [x3] | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, identification | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, yo, it's time to come real, now yo | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station identification, where you at in '94 |
| zuo ci : Burrell, Green, Morgan | |
| What' s your station identification | |
| I spark a mental cypher lasting down through revelations | |
| Take a trip into my mental cypher, I get hyper | |
| Snipingass MC' s, seem to get me higher | |
| Like the buddah, bless the cess when I' m smoking | |
| Hawaiian when I' m rhymin cuz there ain' t no time for joking | |
| Rotating lyrical rhythms like the motions of the wrist | |
| On a fag, I rag, wack MC' s like Maxi | |
| Pads, you can' t see me | |
| Intellectually, you shallow, mentally, you' re just starving | |
| I' m rollin on em like Calvin Butts up in Harlem | |
| Wit metaphors, a nine and clip | |
| I make a rapper trip like white chicks in horror flicks | |
| Identify your station or nbsp? adjustment? | |
| I' m transmitting, I' m giving MC' s division, through diction | |
| Cut em half, check the math, like magician | |
| Conflicting pain on membranes | |
| I' m running shit and killing flows like some wet dreams | |
| I maintain, no static feedback when I attack | |
| Like Shaquille, oh so neal down as I appeal to the masses | |
| I slash kids to ashes and dust, get strucked | |
| As I construct skills that build, I don' t be giving a | |
| Like chastity, my compacity' s unlimited | |
| Wit no gimmick, kids can' t figure my structure like pyramids | |
| I' m spirited like psychic and dead men resurrected | |
| My wisdon' s like prisms when light gets reflected, check it | |
| My lyrical missiles, like heat suckers seeking | |
| Never weakening, feeding off wack rhymers give me strength | |
| Then I lenghten, wit no measure | |
| Cuz I' m the ruler of styles, I rocket, the unidentify flowing object | |
| Time for a station, identification | |
| Wack rappers, open up your eyes, time for lyrical elevation | |
| But you can' t handle when I channel | |
| Entering through mental panels, melting membranes like candles | |
| Disintegrating mental matter, into ashes | |
| Steppin up to rappers, just like the Titan Clashes | |
| Bash an eyelash, my lyrical energy travels fastest | |
| When propel by the leaves of Hawaii | |
| Hardcore raps is about skills, so why do gangstas keep trying | |
| I' m breakin on these mutha as like beat, street | |
| I beat other rappers like nbsp? sega beats needs to beat meets? | |
| Vocal technique like Panasonic | |
| My rhythm moves in motion cuz my skills is like bionic | |
| Identification, station switched wit my lyrical hydraulics | |
| I' m cosmic, the unidentify flowing object | |
| I find that you can' t defined this, other rappers are blind to this | |
| I' m seeing, you' re bleeding from your sinuses | |
| Cuz I' m on a higher plane, I' ll be frying brains | |
| I crack heads like cocaine addicts, automatic | |
| Dramatic, I break backs, I' m chiropractic | |
| I got mad, drastic tactics and static | |
| Gymnastic styles it seems | |
| Cuz I be flippin and balancing beams | |
| Of radiation, devastation, you' re facing, no tracing | |
| You can' t sketch a figure, abstract, no bullet gaps | |
| If you' re wack, my rhymes are triggered, you' re dying quicker | |
| I jack, cuz I rip a weakass rapper, I shatter | |
| Cross em, toss em, the more erratic, flow patterns them in the war zone | |
| Females, you need brail, you can' t see what I' m speaking | |
| In fact, your delinquency can' t see my frequency | |
| I speak to thee in tongues like the exorcist | |
| You can' t test this, I resurrect wit correctness | |
| I' m defying like death is | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, check your station x3 | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, identification | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, yo, it' s time to come real, now yo | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station identification, where you at in ' 94 |
| zuò cí : Burrell, Green, Morgan | |
| What' s your station identification | |
| I spark a mental cypher lasting down through revelations | |
| Take a trip into my mental cypher, I get hyper | |
| Snipingass MC' s, seem to get me higher | |
| Like the buddah, bless the cess when I' m smoking | |
| Hawaiian when I' m rhymin cuz there ain' t no time for joking | |
| Rotating lyrical rhythms like the motions of the wrist | |
| On a fag, I rag, wack MC' s like Maxi | |
| Pads, you can' t see me | |
| Intellectually, you shallow, mentally, you' re just starving | |
| I' m rollin on em like Calvin Butts up in Harlem | |
| Wit metaphors, a nine and clip | |
| I make a rapper trip like white chicks in horror flicks | |
| Identify your station or nbsp? adjustment? | |
| I' m transmitting, I' m giving MC' s division, through diction | |
| Cut em half, check the math, like magician | |
| Conflicting pain on membranes | |
| I' m running shit and killing flows like some wet dreams | |
| I maintain, no static feedback when I attack | |
| Like Shaquille, oh so neal down as I appeal to the masses | |
| I slash kids to ashes and dust, get strucked | |
| As I construct skills that build, I don' t be giving a | |
| Like chastity, my compacity' s unlimited | |
| Wit no gimmick, kids can' t figure my structure like pyramids | |
| I' m spirited like psychic and dead men resurrected | |
| My wisdon' s like prisms when light gets reflected, check it | |
| My lyrical missiles, like heat suckers seeking | |
| Never weakening, feeding off wack rhymers give me strength | |
| Then I lenghten, wit no measure | |
| Cuz I' m the ruler of styles, I rocket, the unidentify flowing object | |
| Time for a station, identification | |
| Wack rappers, open up your eyes, time for lyrical elevation | |
| But you can' t handle when I channel | |
| Entering through mental panels, melting membranes like candles | |
| Disintegrating mental matter, into ashes | |
| Steppin up to rappers, just like the Titan Clashes | |
| Bash an eyelash, my lyrical energy travels fastest | |
| When propel by the leaves of Hawaii | |
| Hardcore raps is about skills, so why do gangstas keep trying | |
| I' m breakin on these mutha as like beat, street | |
| I beat other rappers like nbsp? sega beats needs to beat meets? | |
| Vocal technique like Panasonic | |
| My rhythm moves in motion cuz my skills is like bionic | |
| Identification, station switched wit my lyrical hydraulics | |
| I' m cosmic, the unidentify flowing object | |
| I find that you can' t defined this, other rappers are blind to this | |
| I' m seeing, you' re bleeding from your sinuses | |
| Cuz I' m on a higher plane, I' ll be frying brains | |
| I crack heads like cocaine addicts, automatic | |
| Dramatic, I break backs, I' m chiropractic | |
| I got mad, drastic tactics and static | |
| Gymnastic styles it seems | |
| Cuz I be flippin and balancing beams | |
| Of radiation, devastation, you' re facing, no tracing | |
| You can' t sketch a figure, abstract, no bullet gaps | |
| If you' re wack, my rhymes are triggered, you' re dying quicker | |
| I jack, cuz I rip a weakass rapper, I shatter | |
| Cross em, toss em, the more erratic, flow patterns them in the war zone | |
| Females, you need brail, you can' t see what I' m speaking | |
| In fact, your delinquency can' t see my frequency | |
| I speak to thee in tongues like the exorcist | |
| You can' t test this, I resurrect wit correctness | |
| I' m defying like death is | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, check your station x3 | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, identification | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station, yo, it' s time to come real, now yo | |
| Open up your eyes and, open up your ears and | |
| Check your station identification, where you at in ' 94 |
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