D.T.F.N. 歌词
| 歌曲 | D.T.F.N. |
| 歌手 | YoungStar |
| 专辑 | Hydeout Productions - First Collection |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| I let my mind mental go back to grind central | |
| It is essential that I move my pencil | |
| My credentials and my dental make it nice and simple | |
| So y’all can hear it never fear it and you come and listen | |
| (listen up, listen up) | |
| Cause mindstyle forever glisten | |
| Makin it a mission | |
| For rap to a be new age established religion | |
| So we gon’ move it in my bullpen | |
| My tabernacle will shackle any emcees that want step to me in battle | |
| I’m keepin’ it peace and order while I’m hittin’ the gavel | |
| You talkin’ that bullshit? | |
| You gonna hit the gravel | |
| Cause I’m gonna do what I can, do what I must | |
| Those silly motherfuckas can’t rock the mic | |
| They need to hush | |
| That'll be the favorite fanatical lyrical lust | |
| Feeding ya ears with grade A lyrical foods stuffs | |
| Making you flush when you hear it | |
| Making your spirit overjoy for these lyrics that you want to spit it | |
| Honey we vivid on candid camera now I’m gonna scare ya | |
| Like Godzilla fightin’ Gamera spreadin’ malaria | |
| In ya area pandemonium just a bound | |
| To CYNE hittin’ ya town with the musical sound | |
| And move the crowd with the graphic displays of physical waves | |
| That make you wanna lose it for days | |
| Nigga we made, lyrical art and serenade | |
| Impress the mind like miracles in biblical days | |
| Blessin’ the club with my presence | |
| Forgave all of my lessons | |
| The only protection that I’m carryin’ is not a weapon | |
| Gets to high steppin’ when you see me | |
| No man can ever beat me | |
| I sit back and shine hard believe me | |
| I’m glistenin’ | |
| Talkin’ bullshit while bitches listenin’ | |
| Wishin’ a bubble I say I’m hard on black, Michelin | |
| Wrapped around this 20inch buckshine, ridiculous | |
| Freak nasty hoes cry down and look meticulous | |
| You hearin’ this? | |
| Even these chicken heads delirious | |
| With the vocab and the neck sparklin’ serious | |
| Come on shorty don’t look shy | |
| No need feminine | |
| With ya cute eyes fat thighs and hair marvelous | |
| Skin tone melodic | |
| Ya voice sound exotic | |
| You so fine potpourri scent from when you farted | |
| Lets get it started back at my place | |
| Gettin’ retarded | |
| And don’t be actin brand new boo | |
| We gettin’ on it | |
| So whatchu talkin’ about | |
| Here are my digits so hit the walk about | |
| So we can set it up in the truck | |
| You know we bout’a fuck | |
| So light it up | |
| I’m blazin’ yo mind | |
| We passin’ the time | |
| Fuck doin’ lines | |
| We sippin’ on expensive wine | |
| Damn you’re fine | |
| Pretty brown thighs I’m gonna climb | |
| Body sublime | |
| Sippin’ coronas | |
| Lickin’ the lime | |
| Line for line | |
| It’d be the Cise rippin’ your mind | |
| So give me some time | |
| So we can unwind | |
| Yo, this is how we did it | |
| The city is getting’ me hype | |
| Grabbin’ the mic | |
| Precise star rippin’ it nice | |
| Them and the life | |
| My words became the vehicle | |
| Movin’ the crowd | |
| Lyrical sounds remain diesel | |
| The speakers amplify the words from my mind | |
| And the visible stands stand words forth to the Cyne | |
| Reppin’ this rhyme hard | |
| Standin’ to the right of the God | |
| Up above givin’ love | |
| While he's rappin’ his song | |
| Even though I stand 5'11" | |
| My head is touchin’ heaven | |
| Above the clouds the sounds stop 9/11 | |
| I be the dickin’ reverend | |
| Rockin’ the triple 7 | |
| And be the crews I'm wreckin | |
| So sunny I’m far collectin’ | |
| I’m stayin’ leavin’ the message | |
| But sometimes you be second guessin’ | |
| You better be understanding | |
| That I never left the first question | |
| Move on my music | |
| Meticulous in many directions | |
| Hittin’ ya city town area province and section |
| I let my mind mental go back to grind central | |
| It is essential that I move my pencil | |
| My credentials and my dental make it nice and simple | |
| So y' all can hear it never fear it and you come and listen | |
| listen up, listen up | |
| Cause mindstyle forever glisten | |
| Makin it a mission | |
| For rap to a be new age established religion | |
| So we gon' move it in my bullpen | |
| My tabernacle will shackle any emcees that want step to me in battle | |
| I' m keepin' it peace and order while I' m hittin' the gavel | |
| You talkin' that bullshit? | |
| You gonna hit the gravel | |
| Cause I' m gonna do what I can, do what I must | |
| Those silly motherfuckas can' t rock the mic | |
| They need to hush | |
| That' ll be the favorite fanatical lyrical lust | |
| Feeding ya ears with grade A lyrical foods stuffs | |
| Making you flush when you hear it | |
| Making your spirit overjoy for these lyrics that you want to spit it | |
| Honey we vivid on candid camera now I' m gonna scare ya | |
| Like Godzilla fightin' Gamera spreadin' malaria | |
| In ya area pandemonium just a bound | |
| To CYNE hittin' ya town with the musical sound | |
| And move the crowd with the graphic displays of physical waves | |
| That make you wanna lose it for days | |
| Nigga we made, lyrical art and serenade | |
| Impress the mind like miracles in biblical days | |
| Blessin' the club with my presence | |
| Forgave all of my lessons | |
| The only protection that I' m carryin' is not a weapon | |
| Gets to high steppin' when you see me | |
| No man can ever beat me | |
| I sit back and shine hard believe me | |
| I' m glistenin' | |
| Talkin' bullshit while bitches listenin' | |
| Wishin' a bubble I say I' m hard on black, Michelin | |
| Wrapped around this 20inch buckshine, ridiculous | |
| Freak nasty hoes cry down and look meticulous | |
| You hearin' this? | |
| Even these chicken heads delirious | |
| With the vocab and the neck sparklin' serious | |
| Come on shorty don' t look shy | |
| No need feminine | |
| With ya cute eyes fat thighs and hair marvelous | |
| Skin tone melodic | |
| Ya voice sound exotic | |
| You so fine potpourri scent from when you farted | |
| Lets get it started back at my place | |
| Gettin' retarded | |
| And don' t be actin brand new boo | |
| We gettin' on it | |
| So whatchu talkin' about | |
| Here are my digits so hit the walk about | |
| So we can set it up in the truck | |
| You know we bout' a fuck | |
| So light it up | |
| I' m blazin' yo mind | |
| We passin' the time | |
| Fuck doin' lines | |
| We sippin' on expensive wine | |
| Damn you' re fine | |
| Pretty brown thighs I' m gonna climb | |
| Body sublime | |
| Sippin' coronas | |
| Lickin' the lime | |
| Line for line | |
| It' d be the Cise rippin' your mind | |
| So give me some time | |
| So we can unwind | |
| Yo, this is how we did it | |
| The city is getting' me hype | |
| Grabbin' the mic | |
| Precise star rippin' it nice | |
| Them and the life | |
| My words became the vehicle | |
| Movin' the crowd | |
| Lyrical sounds remain diesel | |
| The speakers amplify the words from my mind | |
| And the visible stands stand words forth to the Cyne | |
| Reppin' this rhyme hard | |
| Standin' to the right of the God | |
| Up above givin' love | |
| While he' s rappin' his song | |
| Even though I stand 5' 11" | |
| My head is touchin' heaven | |
| Above the clouds the sounds stop 9 11 | |
| I be the dickin' reverend | |
| Rockin' the triple 7 | |
| And be the crews I' m wreckin | |
| So sunny I' m far collectin' | |
| I' m stayin' leavin' the message | |
| But sometimes you be second guessin' | |
| You better be understanding | |
| That I never left the first question | |
| Move on my music | |
| Meticulous in many directions | |
| Hittin' ya city town area province and section |
| I let my mind mental go back to grind central | |
| It is essential that I move my pencil | |
| My credentials and my dental make it nice and simple | |
| So y' all can hear it never fear it and you come and listen | |
| listen up, listen up | |
| Cause mindstyle forever glisten | |
| Makin it a mission | |
| For rap to a be new age established religion | |
| So we gon' move it in my bullpen | |
| My tabernacle will shackle any emcees that want step to me in battle | |
| I' m keepin' it peace and order while I' m hittin' the gavel | |
| You talkin' that bullshit? | |
| You gonna hit the gravel | |
| Cause I' m gonna do what I can, do what I must | |
| Those silly motherfuckas can' t rock the mic | |
| They need to hush | |
| That' ll be the favorite fanatical lyrical lust | |
| Feeding ya ears with grade A lyrical foods stuffs | |
| Making you flush when you hear it | |
| Making your spirit overjoy for these lyrics that you want to spit it | |
| Honey we vivid on candid camera now I' m gonna scare ya | |
| Like Godzilla fightin' Gamera spreadin' malaria | |
| In ya area pandemonium just a bound | |
| To CYNE hittin' ya town with the musical sound | |
| And move the crowd with the graphic displays of physical waves | |
| That make you wanna lose it for days | |
| Nigga we made, lyrical art and serenade | |
| Impress the mind like miracles in biblical days | |
| Blessin' the club with my presence | |
| Forgave all of my lessons | |
| The only protection that I' m carryin' is not a weapon | |
| Gets to high steppin' when you see me | |
| No man can ever beat me | |
| I sit back and shine hard believe me | |
| I' m glistenin' | |
| Talkin' bullshit while bitches listenin' | |
| Wishin' a bubble I say I' m hard on black, Michelin | |
| Wrapped around this 20inch buckshine, ridiculous | |
| Freak nasty hoes cry down and look meticulous | |
| You hearin' this? | |
| Even these chicken heads delirious | |
| With the vocab and the neck sparklin' serious | |
| Come on shorty don' t look shy | |
| No need feminine | |
| With ya cute eyes fat thighs and hair marvelous | |
| Skin tone melodic | |
| Ya voice sound exotic | |
| You so fine potpourri scent from when you farted | |
| Lets get it started back at my place | |
| Gettin' retarded | |
| And don' t be actin brand new boo | |
| We gettin' on it | |
| So whatchu talkin' about | |
| Here are my digits so hit the walk about | |
| So we can set it up in the truck | |
| You know we bout' a fuck | |
| So light it up | |
| I' m blazin' yo mind | |
| We passin' the time | |
| Fuck doin' lines | |
| We sippin' on expensive wine | |
| Damn you' re fine | |
| Pretty brown thighs I' m gonna climb | |
| Body sublime | |
| Sippin' coronas | |
| Lickin' the lime | |
| Line for line | |
| It' d be the Cise rippin' your mind | |
| So give me some time | |
| So we can unwind | |
| Yo, this is how we did it | |
| The city is getting' me hype | |
| Grabbin' the mic | |
| Precise star rippin' it nice | |
| Them and the life | |
| My words became the vehicle | |
| Movin' the crowd | |
| Lyrical sounds remain diesel | |
| The speakers amplify the words from my mind | |
| And the visible stands stand words forth to the Cyne | |
| Reppin' this rhyme hard | |
| Standin' to the right of the God | |
| Up above givin' love | |
| While he' s rappin' his song | |
| Even though I stand 5' 11" | |
| My head is touchin' heaven | |
| Above the clouds the sounds stop 9 11 | |
| I be the dickin' reverend | |
| Rockin' the triple 7 | |
| And be the crews I' m wreckin | |
| So sunny I' m far collectin' | |
| I' m stayin' leavin' the message | |
| But sometimes you be second guessin' | |
| You better be understanding | |
| That I never left the first question | |
| Move on my music | |
| Meticulous in many directions | |
| Hittin' ya city town area province and section |
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