歌曲 | For Pete's Sake |
歌手 | Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth |
专辑 | Mecca And The Soul Brother |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Dixon, Penn, Phillips | |
Here come's the rugged one, plus the way i flip it | |
I collect the loot and then i knock the boots | |
A smooth dark lover, prefer to be called the chocolate lover | |
Cuz i can do wonders under cover | |
I'm dip-dip-dope, i rhyme like riz-ope | |
I cleanse like soap, 'cause it's the great black hope | |
Stay away from the penile, i can rock the senile | |
Hons alway wave 'cause slick like bunile | |
Pete rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock | |
Plus the way that i flow...blood clot | |
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, yeah... | |
So funky, like a street junky | |
Like i said before, we go, c'mon... | |
For pete's sake i break and update, wait, i radiate | |
The dub played to navigate the tune i make | |
I fit like a slipper, so catch the big dipper | |
Vital signs are quicker, not the flat line picture | |
Showtime original, official with the smooth criminal | |
I hit the cliches on the subliminal | |
With the soul technician to fill the prescription | |
In addition listen close to the mission | |
The p.e.t.e.r.o.c.k., resume | |
With the route to brut by faberge | |
No doubt, to shout about a 20-bar segment | |
Off spring the lyrics when the microphone's pregnant | |
Give it a rubdown, now here's the sermon | |
Everywhere you go you hear mecca from the vernon | |
Pound for pound, uptown, i get down | |
And bound to spin the record like a merry-go-round | |
The cut don't flow that i touch is not a preemie | |
And who would ever see me when i dream of jeanie | |
I don't think so, peace, i gotta go | |
And shake like an earthquake, cousin, for pete's sake | |
To my man... | |
Here come's the rugged one, plus the way i flip it | |
I collect the loot and then i knock the boots | |
A smooth dark lover, prefer to be called the chocolate lover | |
'cause i can do wonders under cover | |
I'm dip-dip-dope, i rhyme like riz-ope | |
I cleanse like soap, 'cause it's the great black hope | |
Stay away from the penile, i can rock the senile | |
Hons alway wave 'cause i'm slick like lunile | |
Pete rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock | |
Plus the way that i flow...blood clot | |
Yo, my style's cock-diesel and i can do the hustle | |
Niggaz know the time, i don't have to flex a muscle | |
I'm not the type to fake it, i wouldn't try to take it | |
Tie your girl to the back of my jeep butt-naked | |
Slide her monkey ass down the hill | |
So if you don't want beef, money, chill for pete's sake | |
To my man... | |
Music please... | |
(c.l.) the mecca's sweet like nectar, maybe 'cause you need it | |
There's a ribbon in the sky, but i wonder if you see it | |
In the days of thunder, notice how i simplex in the proper context | |
Here steps the one, the answer to the riddle | |
Survey says the black press can make you wiggle | |
The staff to the craft, the stroke of a pena | |
Pefect stranger, melody arranger | |
Loopholes are filled when i build with the skill | |
Liquid steels the mic on the rock's chill | |
No financial aid wade when i'm paid | |
Deep as the everglade, the escapade a renagade | |
Study in the archives, place your bet, sonny | |
Head crack back to back for the bail money | |
For you, a chapter, slayed by the author | |
Lickin' on your daughter, say, south of the border | |
Now, here we are with the funky repertoire | |
Draw warm like a spa, star, forget all the hoopla | |
C.l. smooth and pete rock | |
Could break and penetrate, piece of cake, cousin, for pete's sake | |
To my man... | |
For pete's sake, c'mon... |
zuo ci : Dixon, Penn, Phillips | |
Here come' s the rugged one, plus the way i flip it | |
I collect the loot and then i knock the boots | |
A smooth dark lover, prefer to be called the chocolate lover | |
Cuz i can do wonders under cover | |
I' m dipdipdope, i rhyme like rizope | |
I cleanse like soap, ' cause it' s the great black hope | |
Stay away from the penile, i can rock the senile | |
Hons alway wave ' cause slick like bunile | |
Pete rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock | |
Plus the way that i flow... blood clot | |
Mmhmm, mmhmm, yeah... | |
So funky, like a street junky | |
Like i said before, we go, c' mon... | |
For pete' s sake i break and update, wait, i radiate | |
The dub played to navigate the tune i make | |
I fit like a slipper, so catch the big dipper | |
Vital signs are quicker, not the flat line picture | |
Showtime original, official with the smooth criminal | |
I hit the cliches on the subliminal | |
With the soul technician to fill the prescription | |
In addition listen close to the mission | |
The p. e. t. e. r. o. c. k., resume | |
With the route to brut by faberge | |
No doubt, to shout about a 20bar segment | |
Off spring the lyrics when the microphone' s pregnant | |
Give it a rubdown, now here' s the sermon | |
Everywhere you go you hear mecca from the vernon | |
Pound for pound, uptown, i get down | |
And bound to spin the record like a merrygoround | |
The cut don' t flow that i touch is not a preemie | |
And who would ever see me when i dream of jeanie | |
I don' t think so, peace, i gotta go | |
And shake like an earthquake, cousin, for pete' s sake | |
To my man... | |
Here come' s the rugged one, plus the way i flip it | |
I collect the loot and then i knock the boots | |
A smooth dark lover, prefer to be called the chocolate lover | |
' cause i can do wonders under cover | |
I' m dipdipdope, i rhyme like rizope | |
I cleanse like soap, ' cause it' s the great black hope | |
Stay away from the penile, i can rock the senile | |
Hons alway wave ' cause i' m slick like lunile | |
Pete rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock | |
Plus the way that i flow... blood clot | |
Yo, my style' s cockdiesel and i can do the hustle | |
Niggaz know the time, i don' t have to flex a muscle | |
I' m not the type to fake it, i wouldn' t try to take it | |
Tie your girl to the back of my jeep buttnaked | |
Slide her monkey ass down the hill | |
So if you don' t want beef, money, chill for pete' s sake | |
To my man... | |
Music please... | |
c. l. the mecca' s sweet like nectar, maybe ' cause you need it | |
There' s a ribbon in the sky, but i wonder if you see it | |
In the days of thunder, notice how i simplex in the proper context | |
Here steps the one, the answer to the riddle | |
Survey says the black press can make you wiggle | |
The staff to the craft, the stroke of a pena | |
Pefect stranger, melody arranger | |
Loopholes are filled when i build with the skill | |
Liquid steels the mic on the rock' s chill | |
No financial aid wade when i' m paid | |
Deep as the everglade, the escapade a renagade | |
Study in the archives, place your bet, sonny | |
Head crack back to back for the bail money | |
For you, a chapter, slayed by the author | |
Lickin' on your daughter, say, south of the border | |
Now, here we are with the funky repertoire | |
Draw warm like a spa, star, forget all the hoopla | |
C. l. smooth and pete rock | |
Could break and penetrate, piece of cake, cousin, for pete' s sake | |
To my man... | |
For pete' s sake, c' mon... |
zuò cí : Dixon, Penn, Phillips | |
Here come' s the rugged one, plus the way i flip it | |
I collect the loot and then i knock the boots | |
A smooth dark lover, prefer to be called the chocolate lover | |
Cuz i can do wonders under cover | |
I' m dipdipdope, i rhyme like rizope | |
I cleanse like soap, ' cause it' s the great black hope | |
Stay away from the penile, i can rock the senile | |
Hons alway wave ' cause slick like bunile | |
Pete rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock | |
Plus the way that i flow... blood clot | |
Mmhmm, mmhmm, yeah... | |
So funky, like a street junky | |
Like i said before, we go, c' mon... | |
For pete' s sake i break and update, wait, i radiate | |
The dub played to navigate the tune i make | |
I fit like a slipper, so catch the big dipper | |
Vital signs are quicker, not the flat line picture | |
Showtime original, official with the smooth criminal | |
I hit the cliches on the subliminal | |
With the soul technician to fill the prescription | |
In addition listen close to the mission | |
The p. e. t. e. r. o. c. k., resume | |
With the route to brut by faberge | |
No doubt, to shout about a 20bar segment | |
Off spring the lyrics when the microphone' s pregnant | |
Give it a rubdown, now here' s the sermon | |
Everywhere you go you hear mecca from the vernon | |
Pound for pound, uptown, i get down | |
And bound to spin the record like a merrygoround | |
The cut don' t flow that i touch is not a preemie | |
And who would ever see me when i dream of jeanie | |
I don' t think so, peace, i gotta go | |
And shake like an earthquake, cousin, for pete' s sake | |
To my man... | |
Here come' s the rugged one, plus the way i flip it | |
I collect the loot and then i knock the boots | |
A smooth dark lover, prefer to be called the chocolate lover | |
' cause i can do wonders under cover | |
I' m dipdipdope, i rhyme like rizope | |
I cleanse like soap, ' cause it' s the great black hope | |
Stay away from the penile, i can rock the senile | |
Hons alway wave ' cause i' m slick like lunile | |
Pete rock on the boot knock, on the boot knock | |
Plus the way that i flow... blood clot | |
Yo, my style' s cockdiesel and i can do the hustle | |
Niggaz know the time, i don' t have to flex a muscle | |
I' m not the type to fake it, i wouldn' t try to take it | |
Tie your girl to the back of my jeep buttnaked | |
Slide her monkey ass down the hill | |
So if you don' t want beef, money, chill for pete' s sake | |
To my man... | |
Music please... | |
c. l. the mecca' s sweet like nectar, maybe ' cause you need it | |
There' s a ribbon in the sky, but i wonder if you see it | |
In the days of thunder, notice how i simplex in the proper context | |
Here steps the one, the answer to the riddle | |
Survey says the black press can make you wiggle | |
The staff to the craft, the stroke of a pena | |
Pefect stranger, melody arranger | |
Loopholes are filled when i build with the skill | |
Liquid steels the mic on the rock' s chill | |
No financial aid wade when i' m paid | |
Deep as the everglade, the escapade a renagade | |
Study in the archives, place your bet, sonny | |
Head crack back to back for the bail money | |
For you, a chapter, slayed by the author | |
Lickin' on your daughter, say, south of the border | |
Now, here we are with the funky repertoire | |
Draw warm like a spa, star, forget all the hoopla | |
C. l. smooth and pete rock | |
Could break and penetrate, piece of cake, cousin, for pete' s sake | |
To my man... | |
For pete' s sake, c' mon... |