Confederate Burning 歌词
| 歌曲 | Confederate Burning |
| 歌手 | Opio |
| 专辑 | Triangulation Station |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Domino, Opio, Rasco | |
| (feat. Casual, Rasco) | |
| [Casual] | |
| Ha, it's mad rock with Opio and Rasco | |
| Y'knahmean? Ha | |
| You must not-a followed my last instructions | |
| Now your little duck friend givin me suction | |
| I'm deadly, the UN'll have to bust in | |
| Like Cash got raps, of mass destruction | |
| You whack - how you got the job? | |
| Niggaz soft like cotton swabs | |
| Dirty Garbage Pail Kid, nigga Rotton Rob | |
| Don't get shot and robbed | |
| In the city you doin Bin Laden job | |
| Plottin, been hot since the positive charge y'knahmean? | |
| Now I get high with no sedatives | |
| My innovation's my stimulation | |
| Can I give a demonstration? | |
| Hiero crew rock the nation | |
| From a disclosed location | |
| Straight out the basement, old Casual and Rasco | |
| Hold hip-hop hostage in a astro | |
| We have you surrounded... come out with your hands up | |
| (Police move!) | |
| [Rasco] | |
| Aiyyo, we in the lab | |
| Lookin for a reason to rush ya whole staff | |
| Call up the Gods, you niggaz ain't hard | |
| I hit the yard with like 16 bars, ready to take charge | |
| Out the blocks I change the speed | |
| When I try to tap in niggaz change the feed | |
| I switch, air-tight but I found your glitch | |
| Don't give a nigga sob stories when they pound your bitch | |
| I come off with the flows | |
| Only want those that come off the clothes | |
| Buttery soft toes, earring in the nose, you dealin with pros | |
| Sometimes play the background, not feelin ya shows | |
| F'real, I might do it for a half a mill' | |
| Some brothers think they really have to kill | |
| This is only a drill, go home baby hone your skills | |
| While these niggaz try to chrome they wheels | |
| It's like that y'all | |
| [Chorus: Opio] | |
| And we ain't even finished yet | |
| We genuine legitimate | |
| Send it through the genelect | |
| Cain't **** with the confederate | |
| We genuine legitimate | |
| Send it through the genelect | |
| They we ain't even finished yet | |
| And cain't **** with the confederate | |
| [Opio] | |
| I don't hyper-ventilate, I get the high percentage rate | |
| My credentials, got live in every state | |
| To my mistress, we always sip cognac endless | |
| In the Pontiac, now you only smockin the Benz | |
| And got a BMW, from Bavaria | |
| He's in love with you, you should marry him | |
| She kickin wild fantasies about givin head to Vin Diesel | |
| In Fred Siegel dressin room until he beg please | |
| Shed a fin but I'm still light-skinned | |
| She can call me XXX, my intellect is extra-sensory | |
| I never got excommunicated to the penitentiary | |
| For execution propensity, for mega music | |
| The ultra-ultimate, revolutionary | |
| While the mirror image in inferior gentlemen | |
| Who couldn't bruise a cherry | |
| When I shoot from the roof it's the truth sincerely | |
| [Chorus 1/2] | |
| [Roc Raida scratches] | |
| [Opio] | |
| X marks the spot, burn that shit down to the ground y'knahmean? | |
| Roc Raida what's up baby, I see you | |
| Shake it up, shake it up, shake it up, yeah | |
| Put it down one time, Hieroglyphics man, spell it out | |
| So the world can see... |
| zuo qu : Domino, Opio, Rasco | |
| feat. Casual, Rasco | |
| Casual | |
| Ha, it' s mad rock with Opio and Rasco | |
| Y' knahmean? Ha | |
| You must nota followed my last instructions | |
| Now your little duck friend givin me suction | |
| I' m deadly, the UN' ll have to bust in | |
| Like Cash got raps, of mass destruction | |
| You whack how you got the job? | |
| Niggaz soft like cotton swabs | |
| Dirty Garbage Pail Kid, nigga Rotton Rob | |
| Don' t get shot and robbed | |
| In the city you doin Bin Laden job | |
| Plottin, been hot since the positive charge y' knahmean? | |
| Now I get high with no sedatives | |
| My innovation' s my stimulation | |
| Can I give a demonstration? | |
| Hiero crew rock the nation | |
| From a disclosed location | |
| Straight out the basement, old Casual and Rasco | |
| Hold hiphop hostage in a astro | |
| We have you surrounded... come out with your hands up | |
| Police move! | |
| Rasco | |
| Aiyyo, we in the lab | |
| Lookin for a reason to rush ya whole staff | |
| Call up the Gods, you niggaz ain' t hard | |
| I hit the yard with like 16 bars, ready to take charge | |
| Out the blocks I change the speed | |
| When I try to tap in niggaz change the feed | |
| I switch, airtight but I found your glitch | |
| Don' t give a nigga sob stories when they pound your bitch | |
| I come off with the flows | |
| Only want those that come off the clothes | |
| Buttery soft toes, earring in the nose, you dealin with pros | |
| Sometimes play the background, not feelin ya shows | |
| F' real, I might do it for a half a mill' | |
| Some brothers think they really have to kill | |
| This is only a drill, go home baby hone your skills | |
| While these niggaz try to chrome they wheels | |
| It' s like that y' all | |
| Chorus: Opio | |
| And we ain' t even finished yet | |
| We genuine legitimate | |
| Send it through the genelect | |
| Cain' t with the confederate | |
| We genuine legitimate | |
| Send it through the genelect | |
| They we ain' t even finished yet | |
| And cain' t with the confederate | |
| Opio | |
| I don' t hyperventilate, I get the high percentage rate | |
| My credentials, got live in every state | |
| To my mistress, we always sip cognac endless | |
| In the Pontiac, now you only smockin the Benz | |
| And got a BMW, from Bavaria | |
| He' s in love with you, you should marry him | |
| She kickin wild fantasies about givin head to Vin Diesel | |
| In Fred Siegel dressin room until he beg please | |
| Shed a fin but I' m still lightskinned | |
| She can call me XXX, my intellect is extrasensory | |
| I never got excommunicated to the penitentiary | |
| For execution propensity, for mega music | |
| The ultraultimate, revolutionary | |
| While the mirror image in inferior gentlemen | |
| Who couldn' t bruise a cherry | |
| When I shoot from the roof it' s the truth sincerely | |
| Chorus 1 2 | |
| Roc Raida scratches | |
| Opio | |
| X marks the spot, burn that shit down to the ground y' knahmean? | |
| Roc Raida what' s up baby, I see you | |
| Shake it up, shake it up, shake it up, yeah | |
| Put it down one time, Hieroglyphics man, spell it out | |
| So the world can see... |
| zuò qǔ : Domino, Opio, Rasco | |
| feat. Casual, Rasco | |
| Casual | |
| Ha, it' s mad rock with Opio and Rasco | |
| Y' knahmean? Ha | |
| You must nota followed my last instructions | |
| Now your little duck friend givin me suction | |
| I' m deadly, the UN' ll have to bust in | |
| Like Cash got raps, of mass destruction | |
| You whack how you got the job? | |
| Niggaz soft like cotton swabs | |
| Dirty Garbage Pail Kid, nigga Rotton Rob | |
| Don' t get shot and robbed | |
| In the city you doin Bin Laden job | |
| Plottin, been hot since the positive charge y' knahmean? | |
| Now I get high with no sedatives | |
| My innovation' s my stimulation | |
| Can I give a demonstration? | |
| Hiero crew rock the nation | |
| From a disclosed location | |
| Straight out the basement, old Casual and Rasco | |
| Hold hiphop hostage in a astro | |
| We have you surrounded... come out with your hands up | |
| Police move! | |
| Rasco | |
| Aiyyo, we in the lab | |
| Lookin for a reason to rush ya whole staff | |
| Call up the Gods, you niggaz ain' t hard | |
| I hit the yard with like 16 bars, ready to take charge | |
| Out the blocks I change the speed | |
| When I try to tap in niggaz change the feed | |
| I switch, airtight but I found your glitch | |
| Don' t give a nigga sob stories when they pound your bitch | |
| I come off with the flows | |
| Only want those that come off the clothes | |
| Buttery soft toes, earring in the nose, you dealin with pros | |
| Sometimes play the background, not feelin ya shows | |
| F' real, I might do it for a half a mill' | |
| Some brothers think they really have to kill | |
| This is only a drill, go home baby hone your skills | |
| While these niggaz try to chrome they wheels | |
| It' s like that y' all | |
| Chorus: Opio | |
| And we ain' t even finished yet | |
| We genuine legitimate | |
| Send it through the genelect | |
| Cain' t with the confederate | |
| We genuine legitimate | |
| Send it through the genelect | |
| They we ain' t even finished yet | |
| And cain' t with the confederate | |
| Opio | |
| I don' t hyperventilate, I get the high percentage rate | |
| My credentials, got live in every state | |
| To my mistress, we always sip cognac endless | |
| In the Pontiac, now you only smockin the Benz | |
| And got a BMW, from Bavaria | |
| He' s in love with you, you should marry him | |
| She kickin wild fantasies about givin head to Vin Diesel | |
| In Fred Siegel dressin room until he beg please | |
| Shed a fin but I' m still lightskinned | |
| She can call me XXX, my intellect is extrasensory | |
| I never got excommunicated to the penitentiary | |
| For execution propensity, for mega music | |
| The ultraultimate, revolutionary | |
| While the mirror image in inferior gentlemen | |
| Who couldn' t bruise a cherry | |
| When I shoot from the roof it' s the truth sincerely | |
| Chorus 1 2 | |
| Roc Raida scratches | |
| Opio | |
| X marks the spot, burn that shit down to the ground y' knahmean? | |
| Roc Raida what' s up baby, I see you | |
| Shake it up, shake it up, shake it up, yeah | |
| Put it down one time, Hieroglyphics man, spell it out | |
| So the world can see... |
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