歌曲 | Until The Lion Learns To Speak |
歌手 | K'Naan |
专辑 | The Dusty Foot On The Road |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : K'Naan, Warsame | |
Until the lion learns to speak | |
The tales of hunting will be weak | |
My poetry hales within the streets | |
My poetry fails to be discrete | |
It travels across the earth and seas | |
From Eritrea to the West Indies | |
It knows no boundaries, no cheese | |
It's studied in parts of Greece | |
(runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey) | |
I am sick as far as lyrics | |
Not with, as far as gimmicks | |
I spit, barrage and limit | |
The shit they talk, and rip it | |
I'm hip, the hop is livin | |
I skip the obvious women | |
Don't get what I'm presenting | |
No rims, my mind spinning | |
(runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey) | |
I was born and raised in a place | |
Where torn of flame would blaze | |
Where the foreigners are not embraced | |
Where they warn you jog and pace | |
Where loners lower their gaze | |
Where the corners slow at a chase | |
Where they twist and turn in the maze | |
With the pistol 'pon your face | |
(runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey) | |
So come with me to my lungs | |
The depth and be overrun | |
With passion see how I come | |
No cash I am free in the slums | |
The past can we overcome | |
I am asking we be the ones | |
To actually be the ones | |
To free our people from guns | |
(hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey) | |
I was born and raised in a place | |
Where torn of flame would blaze | |
Where the foreigners are not embraced | |
Where they warn you jog and pace | |
Where loners lower their gaze | |
Where the corners slow at a chase | |
Where they twist and turn in the maze | |
With the pistol 'pon your face | |
(runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey) | |
So come with me to my lungs | |
The depth and be overrun | |
With passion see how I come | |
No cash I am free in the slums | |
The past can we overcome | |
I am asking we be the ones | |
To actually be the ones | |
To free our people from guns | |
(hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey) | |
Until the lion learns to speak | |
The tales of hunting will be weak | |
My poetry hales within the streets | |
My poetry fails to be discrete | |
It travels across the earth and seas | |
From Somalia to the West Indies | |
It knows no boundaries, no cheese | |
It's studied in parts of Greece | |
(Hadii kale waxaan lahaa aheey) | |
Say I am sick as far as lyrics | |
Not with, as far as gimmicks | |
I spit, barrage and limit | |
The shit they talk, and rip it | |
I'm hip, the hop is livin | |
I skip the obvious women | |
Don't get what I'm presenting | |
No rims, my mind spinning | |
(runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey |
zuo qu : K' Naan, Warsame | |
Until the lion learns to speak | |
The tales of hunting will be weak | |
My poetry hales within the streets | |
My poetry fails to be discrete | |
It travels across the earth and seas | |
From Eritrea to the West Indies | |
It knows no boundaries, no cheese | |
It' s studied in parts of Greece | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
I am sick as far as lyrics | |
Not with, as far as gimmicks | |
I spit, barrage and limit | |
The shit they talk, and rip it | |
I' m hip, the hop is livin | |
I skip the obvious women | |
Don' t get what I' m presenting | |
No rims, my mind spinning | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
I was born and raised in a place | |
Where torn of flame would blaze | |
Where the foreigners are not embraced | |
Where they warn you jog and pace | |
Where loners lower their gaze | |
Where the corners slow at a chase | |
Where they twist and turn in the maze | |
With the pistol ' pon your face | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
So come with me to my lungs | |
The depth and be overrun | |
With passion see how I come | |
No cash I am free in the slums | |
The past can we overcome | |
I am asking we be the ones | |
To actually be the ones | |
To free our people from guns | |
hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
I was born and raised in a place | |
Where torn of flame would blaze | |
Where the foreigners are not embraced | |
Where they warn you jog and pace | |
Where loners lower their gaze | |
Where the corners slow at a chase | |
Where they twist and turn in the maze | |
With the pistol ' pon your face | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
So come with me to my lungs | |
The depth and be overrun | |
With passion see how I come | |
No cash I am free in the slums | |
The past can we overcome | |
I am asking we be the ones | |
To actually be the ones | |
To free our people from guns | |
hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
Until the lion learns to speak | |
The tales of hunting will be weak | |
My poetry hales within the streets | |
My poetry fails to be discrete | |
It travels across the earth and seas | |
From Somalia to the West Indies | |
It knows no boundaries, no cheese | |
It' s studied in parts of Greece | |
Hadii kale waxaan lahaa aheey | |
Say I am sick as far as lyrics | |
Not with, as far as gimmicks | |
I spit, barrage and limit | |
The shit they talk, and rip it | |
I' m hip, the hop is livin | |
I skip the obvious women | |
Don' t get what I' m presenting | |
No rims, my mind spinning | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey |
zuò qǔ : K' Naan, Warsame | |
Until the lion learns to speak | |
The tales of hunting will be weak | |
My poetry hales within the streets | |
My poetry fails to be discrete | |
It travels across the earth and seas | |
From Eritrea to the West Indies | |
It knows no boundaries, no cheese | |
It' s studied in parts of Greece | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
I am sick as far as lyrics | |
Not with, as far as gimmicks | |
I spit, barrage and limit | |
The shit they talk, and rip it | |
I' m hip, the hop is livin | |
I skip the obvious women | |
Don' t get what I' m presenting | |
No rims, my mind spinning | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
I was born and raised in a place | |
Where torn of flame would blaze | |
Where the foreigners are not embraced | |
Where they warn you jog and pace | |
Where loners lower their gaze | |
Where the corners slow at a chase | |
Where they twist and turn in the maze | |
With the pistol ' pon your face | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
So come with me to my lungs | |
The depth and be overrun | |
With passion see how I come | |
No cash I am free in the slums | |
The past can we overcome | |
I am asking we be the ones | |
To actually be the ones | |
To free our people from guns | |
hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
I was born and raised in a place | |
Where torn of flame would blaze | |
Where the foreigners are not embraced | |
Where they warn you jog and pace | |
Where loners lower their gaze | |
Where the corners slow at a chase | |
Where they twist and turn in the maze | |
With the pistol ' pon your face | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
So come with me to my lungs | |
The depth and be overrun | |
With passion see how I come | |
No cash I am free in the slums | |
The past can we overcome | |
I am asking we be the ones | |
To actually be the ones | |
To free our people from guns | |
hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey | |
Until the lion learns to speak | |
The tales of hunting will be weak | |
My poetry hales within the streets | |
My poetry fails to be discrete | |
It travels across the earth and seas | |
From Somalia to the West Indies | |
It knows no boundaries, no cheese | |
It' s studied in parts of Greece | |
Hadii kale waxaan lahaa aheey | |
Say I am sick as far as lyrics | |
Not with, as far as gimmicks | |
I spit, barrage and limit | |
The shit they talk, and rip it | |
I' m hip, the hop is livin | |
I skip the obvious women | |
Don' t get what I' m presenting | |
No rims, my mind spinning | |
runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey |