Clown Prince 歌词
| 歌曲 | Clown Prince |
| 歌手 | Hilltop Hoods |
| 专辑 | The Hard Road |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| (Intro) | |
| (Pressure & Suffa) | |
| Oi P it's your round | |
| Na it's your round | |
| Oi it's your fucking round man I got the last fucking round! | |
| Hey you still owe me five anyway bro! You get the round! | |
| Fuck It's your round dude | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Pressure & Suffa) | |
| It's your round, if you're hanging at the back of the bar | |
| So just bounce like you're banging in the back of your car | |
| We turn it out; Hilltop we've been down since | |
| Back in the days, I'm the clown prince | |
| It's your round, if you're hanging at the back of the bar | |
| So just bounce, like you're banging in the back of your car | |
| We turn it out; Hilltop we've been down since | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager | |
| (Suffa) | |
| First up, on the dolcet tones of the Gravy Bone Project | |
| Suffa MC came to take you home | |
| I drip lyrics like spits, spit lyrics like drips | |
| In the arms I'll lick ya spirit with my miracle whip | |
| Whip, cause what I'm hearing's all shit on the lyrical tip | |
| Na, I ain't feeling ya kid, we gave you | |
| Something to jock, but it wasn't no thing | |
| Like bobby gave Whitney a rock but it wasn't no ring (drinks party) | |
| And I'm a keep at 'em, crossing my fingers that eve | |
| Says keep Adam, I'm going down on Louise | |
| And I'm a wreak havoc, little man with a big pen | |
| I got dirty habits like a nun in a pig pen | |
| Like drinking, smoking, cursing, sucking | |
| Titties representing the city that I grew up in | |
| We laid the path so you got a way in | |
| It's Hilltop; we're three stars like a Holiday Inn | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Pressure) | |
| Next up, when I get loose with no fail | |
| Appealing like the naked truth and the truth is for sale | |
| So when I leave yo, you're fucking with my pride I don't see though | |
| Typical MC, my nuts don't match the size of my ego | |
| I seize an opportunity cause they don't linger | |
| The glass ain't half empty it's half full that's why I'm a table drinker | |
| Think your on Pressure's level? Only thing tight bro | |
| That you might show is dressed in several of your wife's clothes | |
| An arrogant fucker damaging suckers masterfully | |
| If I married your mother you still wouldn't be half of me | |
| You should run from me, fuck battling, ain't nothing sweet | |
| 'Cause I won't beat you to the punch I'll punch you to the beat | |
| Don't get offended by the rubbish that we pump in the street | |
| My foots always in my mouth I just can't stomach defeat | |
| I'm a master these until it's hard to breath | |
| It's Hilltop we're the first to come last to leave | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Suffa & Pressure) | |
| Man I'm smooth like Marlon Brando at thirty | |
| At my peak like Marlon Brando at fifty | |
| And I'm fat like Marlon Brando at seventy | |
| Fuck it; no MC can ever better me (no one man) | |
| And half the time half my crew could drink the bar | |
| And half these cats ain't half of what they think they are | |
| We independent, I'd sign on the line | |
| The day me giving you the finger is a sign of the times | |
| Their rhymes are designed to dis us, but why dis us? | |
| I don't rewind to try to find disses | |
| Man, I just recline and mind my business | |
| And I think in lines in rhymes, the rhyme stitches | |
| Up the minds of the lines of dimes and fine... | |
| I pen letters that kill | |
| They stab ya neck with a feather until you've bled in my quill | |
| This veteren's ill, thinking you can better my skill | |
| You need medicine chill a Pressure vendettas for real | |
| (Chorus) |
| zuo qu : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| Intro | |
| Pressure Suffa | |
| Oi P it' s your round | |
| Na it' s your round | |
| Oi it' s your fucking round man I got the last fucking round! | |
| Hey you still owe me five anyway bro! You get the round! | |
| Fuck It' s your round dude | |
| Chorus | |
| Pressure Suffa | |
| It' s your round, if you' re hanging at the back of the bar | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car | |
| We turn it out Hilltop we' ve been down since | |
| Back in the days, I' m the clown prince | |
| It' s your round, if you' re hanging at the back of the bar | |
| So just bounce, like you' re banging in the back of your car | |
| We turn it out Hilltop we' ve been down since | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager | |
| Suffa | |
| First up, on the dolcet tones of the Gravy Bone Project | |
| Suffa MC came to take you home | |
| I drip lyrics like spits, spit lyrics like drips | |
| In the arms I' ll lick ya spirit with my miracle whip | |
| Whip, cause what I' m hearing' s all shit on the lyrical tip | |
| Na, I ain' t feeling ya kid, we gave you | |
| Something to jock, but it wasn' t no thing | |
| Like bobby gave Whitney a rock but it wasn' t no ring drinks party | |
| And I' m a keep at ' em, crossing my fingers that eve | |
| Says keep Adam, I' m going down on Louise | |
| And I' m a wreak havoc, little man with a big pen | |
| I got dirty habits like a nun in a pig pen | |
| Like drinking, smoking, cursing, sucking | |
| Titties representing the city that I grew up in | |
| We laid the path so you got a way in | |
| It' s Hilltop we' re three stars like a Holiday Inn | |
| Chorus | |
| Pressure | |
| Next up, when I get loose with no fail | |
| Appealing like the naked truth and the truth is for sale | |
| So when I leave yo, you' re fucking with my pride I don' t see though | |
| Typical MC, my nuts don' t match the size of my ego | |
| I seize an opportunity cause they don' t linger | |
| The glass ain' t half empty it' s half full that' s why I' m a table drinker | |
| Think your on Pressure' s level? Only thing tight bro | |
| That you might show is dressed in several of your wife' s clothes | |
| An arrogant fucker damaging suckers masterfully | |
| If I married your mother you still wouldn' t be half of me | |
| You should run from me, fuck battling, ain' t nothing sweet | |
| ' Cause I won' t beat you to the punch I' ll punch you to the beat | |
| Don' t get offended by the rubbish that we pump in the street | |
| My foots always in my mouth I just can' t stomach defeat | |
| I' m a master these until it' s hard to breath | |
| It' s Hilltop we' re the first to come last to leave | |
| Chorus | |
| Suffa Pressure | |
| Man I' m smooth like Marlon Brando at thirty | |
| At my peak like Marlon Brando at fifty | |
| And I' m fat like Marlon Brando at seventy | |
| Fuck it no MC can ever better me no one man | |
| And half the time half my crew could drink the bar | |
| And half these cats ain' t half of what they think they are | |
| We independent, I' d sign on the line | |
| The day me giving you the finger is a sign of the times | |
| Their rhymes are designed to dis us, but why dis us? | |
| I don' t rewind to try to find disses | |
| Man, I just recline and mind my business | |
| And I think in lines in rhymes, the rhyme stitches | |
| Up the minds of the lines of dimes and fine... | |
| I pen letters that kill | |
| They stab ya neck with a feather until you' ve bled in my quill | |
| This veteren' s ill, thinking you can better my skill | |
| You need medicine chill a Pressure vendettas for real | |
| Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Francis, Lambert, Smith | |
| Intro | |
| Pressure Suffa | |
| Oi P it' s your round | |
| Na it' s your round | |
| Oi it' s your fucking round man I got the last fucking round! | |
| Hey you still owe me five anyway bro! You get the round! | |
| Fuck It' s your round dude | |
| Chorus | |
| Pressure Suffa | |
| It' s your round, if you' re hanging at the back of the bar | |
| So just bounce like you' re banging in the back of your car | |
| We turn it out Hilltop we' ve been down since | |
| Back in the days, I' m the clown prince | |
| It' s your round, if you' re hanging at the back of the bar | |
| So just bounce, like you' re banging in the back of your car | |
| We turn it out Hilltop we' ve been down since | |
| Back in the days when I was a teenager | |
| Suffa | |
| First up, on the dolcet tones of the Gravy Bone Project | |
| Suffa MC came to take you home | |
| I drip lyrics like spits, spit lyrics like drips | |
| In the arms I' ll lick ya spirit with my miracle whip | |
| Whip, cause what I' m hearing' s all shit on the lyrical tip | |
| Na, I ain' t feeling ya kid, we gave you | |
| Something to jock, but it wasn' t no thing | |
| Like bobby gave Whitney a rock but it wasn' t no ring drinks party | |
| And I' m a keep at ' em, crossing my fingers that eve | |
| Says keep Adam, I' m going down on Louise | |
| And I' m a wreak havoc, little man with a big pen | |
| I got dirty habits like a nun in a pig pen | |
| Like drinking, smoking, cursing, sucking | |
| Titties representing the city that I grew up in | |
| We laid the path so you got a way in | |
| It' s Hilltop we' re three stars like a Holiday Inn | |
| Chorus | |
| Pressure | |
| Next up, when I get loose with no fail | |
| Appealing like the naked truth and the truth is for sale | |
| So when I leave yo, you' re fucking with my pride I don' t see though | |
| Typical MC, my nuts don' t match the size of my ego | |
| I seize an opportunity cause they don' t linger | |
| The glass ain' t half empty it' s half full that' s why I' m a table drinker | |
| Think your on Pressure' s level? Only thing tight bro | |
| That you might show is dressed in several of your wife' s clothes | |
| An arrogant fucker damaging suckers masterfully | |
| If I married your mother you still wouldn' t be half of me | |
| You should run from me, fuck battling, ain' t nothing sweet | |
| ' Cause I won' t beat you to the punch I' ll punch you to the beat | |
| Don' t get offended by the rubbish that we pump in the street | |
| My foots always in my mouth I just can' t stomach defeat | |
| I' m a master these until it' s hard to breath | |
| It' s Hilltop we' re the first to come last to leave | |
| Chorus | |
| Suffa Pressure | |
| Man I' m smooth like Marlon Brando at thirty | |
| At my peak like Marlon Brando at fifty | |
| And I' m fat like Marlon Brando at seventy | |
| Fuck it no MC can ever better me no one man | |
| And half the time half my crew could drink the bar | |
| And half these cats ain' t half of what they think they are | |
| We independent, I' d sign on the line | |
| The day me giving you the finger is a sign of the times | |
| Their rhymes are designed to dis us, but why dis us? | |
| I don' t rewind to try to find disses | |
| Man, I just recline and mind my business | |
| And I think in lines in rhymes, the rhyme stitches | |
| Up the minds of the lines of dimes and fine... | |
| I pen letters that kill | |
| They stab ya neck with a feather until you' ve bled in my quill | |
| This veteren' s ill, thinking you can better my skill | |
| You need medicine chill a Pressure vendettas for real | |
| Chorus |
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