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