歌曲 | When Disaster Strikes |
歌手 | Busta Rhymes |
专辑 | When Disaster Strikes... |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : George Spivey/Trevor Smith | |
作曲 : George Spivey/Trevor Smith | |
[Intro] | |
Yeah, good god | |
[Chorus] | |
(Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la | |
Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la) | |
Yeah, for all you mother****ers, across the whole entire galaxy | |
Busta Rhymes,and the whole entire Flipmode Squad | |
Back at y'all mother****ers in 1997 | |
(Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la | |
Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la) | |
Ha, when disaster strikes, when disaster strikes | |
Take a look and sit on the sidelines and bear witness, ha | |
[Verse 1] | |
On and on, return from the future like a centurion | |
All my affiliates, let's stack another mil-li-on | |
While you learn on how the words go to my mother****in' song Watch me puts it on | |
It keeps you open all day long | |
(The way we **** shit up you thinkin' something must be wrong) | |
Set the high standards for corny niggas to get the gong | |
Bleach your ass blonde and black your color back to bronze | |
On happy days, I be the coolest nigga like The Fonz | |
So spectacular how I touch souls from here to Africa | |
My Zimbabwe niggas bangin' my joints up in they Acura | |
Ooh, nigga, you feel the bump from bumper to bumper | |
Drivin' imported five hundreds in foreign license plate numbers | |
Ha-ha, laugh at ya, oh, me and my passengers | |
Flip ass niggas over quick like frying pan spatulas | |
(Why do you be wastin' your time, being mad at us?) | |
Every voice should sing and help the music sound miraculous | |
[Chorus] | |
(Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la | |
Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la) | |
Yes, yes, y'all, Flipmode Squad y'all | |
We reign supreme in 1997 | |
When disaster strikes, you will all feel | |
(Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la | |
Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la) | |
When disaster strikes, you will all see | |
When disaster strikes, you will all bear witness | |
To the Most High Exalted | |
[Verse 2] | |
Yo, I keeps flows so ridiculous | |
Rhyme flow taste good like a handful of cherry licorice | |
Practice your rhyme or be the local practitionist | |
Well, you can try being a doctor or being a local obstetricianist | |
See, you can be somethin' | |
Quit tryin to work so ****in' hard towards nothin | |
This rhyme shit was never de signed for every swollen muffin | |
Yo, I'm singin'... | |
Why y'all niggas think that y'all could really see my Squad? | |
And if we hit you hard, that's when you feel the power of the God | |
Do it right, and big up my peeps and A-Alikes | |
On alike, repel, especially feel when disaster strikes | |
Extremely delicate like the blowing out of candlelights | |
The quiet killing surprises niggas whenever they wanna fight | |
That type of shit that shine, and blind a nigga eyesight, a'ight? | |
We keepin' it tight, y'all niggas don't want it right? | |
You will never ever get no wins inside mi casa | |
We killin' all impostors like we killin' cucarachas | |
Bounce to award ceremonies like we winnin' Oscars | |
Rhymin' Rastasg eating enough exotic pasta, ha, yo | |
(We keep it movin' for all of y'all) | |
Freak y'all niggas out while I'm makin' y'all niggas fall | |
Disaster will hit ya quick anytime you wanna brawl | |
Perm press a nigga back, peel them off the wall | |
So tell me, why do you be wastin' your time, being mad at us? | |
Every voice should sing, and help the music sound miraculous | |
[Chorus] | |
(Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la | |
Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la) | |
Ha, oh yes, y'all | |
This situation has now been brought before your very eyes | |
And as we carry on Flipmode Squad continues to conquer the world | |
(Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la | |
Tra-la-la-la-la, tra-la-la-la-la) | |
When disaster strikes, you will all fear | |
When disaster strikes, you will all bear witness | |
To the Most High Exalted, ha | |
Rap : Busta Rhymes. |
zuo ci : George Spivey Trevor Smith | |
zuo qu : George Spivey Trevor Smith | |
Intro | |
Yeah, good god | |
Chorus | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Yeah, for all you mother ers, across the whole entire galaxy | |
Busta Rhymes, and the whole entire Flipmode Squad | |
Back at y' all mother ers in 1997 | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Ha, when disaster strikes, when disaster strikes | |
Take a look and sit on the sidelines and bear witness, ha | |
Verse 1 | |
On and on, return from the future like a centurion | |
All my affiliates, let' s stack another million | |
While you learn on how the words go to my mother in' song Watch me puts it on | |
It keeps you open all day long | |
The way we shit up you thinkin' something must be wrong | |
Set the high standards for corny niggas to get the gong | |
Bleach your ass blonde and black your color back to bronze | |
On happy days, I be the coolest nigga like The Fonz | |
So spectacular how I touch souls from here to Africa | |
My Zimbabwe niggas bangin' my joints up in they Acura | |
Ooh, nigga, you feel the bump from bumper to bumper | |
Drivin' imported five hundreds in foreign license plate numbers | |
Haha, laugh at ya, oh, me and my passengers | |
Flip ass niggas over quick like frying pan spatulas | |
Why do you be wastin' your time, being mad at us? | |
Every voice should sing and help the music sound miraculous | |
Chorus | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Yes, yes, y' all, Flipmode Squad y' all | |
We reign supreme in 1997 | |
When disaster strikes, you will all feel | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
When disaster strikes, you will all see | |
When disaster strikes, you will all bear witness | |
To the Most High Exalted | |
Verse 2 | |
Yo, I keeps flows so ridiculous | |
Rhyme flow taste good like a handful of cherry licorice | |
Practice your rhyme or be the local practitionist | |
Well, you can try being a doctor or being a local obstetricianist | |
See, you can be somethin' | |
Quit tryin to work so in' hard towards nothin | |
This rhyme shit was never de signed for every swollen muffin | |
Yo, I' m singin'... | |
Why y' all niggas think that y' all could really see my Squad? | |
And if we hit you hard, that' s when you feel the power of the God | |
Do it right, and big up my peeps and AAlikes | |
On alike, repel, especially feel when disaster strikes | |
Extremely delicate like the blowing out of candlelights | |
The quiet killing surprises niggas whenever they wanna fight | |
That type of shit that shine, and blind a nigga eyesight, a' ight? | |
We keepin' it tight, y' all niggas don' t want it right? | |
You will never ever get no wins inside mi casa | |
We killin' all impostors like we killin' cucarachas | |
Bounce to award ceremonies like we winnin' Oscars | |
Rhymin' Rastasg eating enough exotic pasta, ha, yo | |
We keep it movin' for all of y' all | |
Freak y' all niggas out while I' m makin' y' all niggas fall | |
Disaster will hit ya quick anytime you wanna brawl | |
Perm press a nigga back, peel them off the wall | |
So tell me, why do you be wastin' your time, being mad at us? | |
Every voice should sing, and help the music sound miraculous | |
Chorus | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Ha, oh yes, y' all | |
This situation has now been brought before your very eyes | |
And as we carry on Flipmode Squad continues to conquer the world | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
When disaster strikes, you will all fear | |
When disaster strikes, you will all bear witness | |
To the Most High Exalted, ha | |
Rap : Busta Rhymes. |
zuò cí : George Spivey Trevor Smith | |
zuò qǔ : George Spivey Trevor Smith | |
Intro | |
Yeah, good god | |
Chorus | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Yeah, for all you mother ers, across the whole entire galaxy | |
Busta Rhymes, and the whole entire Flipmode Squad | |
Back at y' all mother ers in 1997 | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Ha, when disaster strikes, when disaster strikes | |
Take a look and sit on the sidelines and bear witness, ha | |
Verse 1 | |
On and on, return from the future like a centurion | |
All my affiliates, let' s stack another million | |
While you learn on how the words go to my mother in' song Watch me puts it on | |
It keeps you open all day long | |
The way we shit up you thinkin' something must be wrong | |
Set the high standards for corny niggas to get the gong | |
Bleach your ass blonde and black your color back to bronze | |
On happy days, I be the coolest nigga like The Fonz | |
So spectacular how I touch souls from here to Africa | |
My Zimbabwe niggas bangin' my joints up in they Acura | |
Ooh, nigga, you feel the bump from bumper to bumper | |
Drivin' imported five hundreds in foreign license plate numbers | |
Haha, laugh at ya, oh, me and my passengers | |
Flip ass niggas over quick like frying pan spatulas | |
Why do you be wastin' your time, being mad at us? | |
Every voice should sing and help the music sound miraculous | |
Chorus | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Yes, yes, y' all, Flipmode Squad y' all | |
We reign supreme in 1997 | |
When disaster strikes, you will all feel | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
When disaster strikes, you will all see | |
When disaster strikes, you will all bear witness | |
To the Most High Exalted | |
Verse 2 | |
Yo, I keeps flows so ridiculous | |
Rhyme flow taste good like a handful of cherry licorice | |
Practice your rhyme or be the local practitionist | |
Well, you can try being a doctor or being a local obstetricianist | |
See, you can be somethin' | |
Quit tryin to work so in' hard towards nothin | |
This rhyme shit was never de signed for every swollen muffin | |
Yo, I' m singin'... | |
Why y' all niggas think that y' all could really see my Squad? | |
And if we hit you hard, that' s when you feel the power of the God | |
Do it right, and big up my peeps and AAlikes | |
On alike, repel, especially feel when disaster strikes | |
Extremely delicate like the blowing out of candlelights | |
The quiet killing surprises niggas whenever they wanna fight | |
That type of shit that shine, and blind a nigga eyesight, a' ight? | |
We keepin' it tight, y' all niggas don' t want it right? | |
You will never ever get no wins inside mi casa | |
We killin' all impostors like we killin' cucarachas | |
Bounce to award ceremonies like we winnin' Oscars | |
Rhymin' Rastasg eating enough exotic pasta, ha, yo | |
We keep it movin' for all of y' all | |
Freak y' all niggas out while I' m makin' y' all niggas fall | |
Disaster will hit ya quick anytime you wanna brawl | |
Perm press a nigga back, peel them off the wall | |
So tell me, why do you be wastin' your time, being mad at us? | |
Every voice should sing, and help the music sound miraculous | |
Chorus | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Ha, oh yes, y' all | |
This situation has now been brought before your very eyes | |
And as we carry on Flipmode Squad continues to conquer the world | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
Tralalalala, tralalalala | |
When disaster strikes, you will all fear | |
When disaster strikes, you will all bear witness | |
To the Most High Exalted, ha | |
Rap : Busta Rhymes. |