歌曲 | Count on That |
歌手 | Kero One |
歌手 | Dumbfoundead |
专辑 | Color Theory |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Mike B Kim/jonathan park | |
作曲 : Mike B Kim | |
(Dumbfoundead Verse 1) | |
Got my favorite record on and incense lit | |
Since an infant I’ve looked up to them big ballin’ pimps | |
Shiny Impalas with rims the Crème de le crème | |
Young prince with a pen trying to be one of them | |
Now I’m grown, and my OG’s are locked up or drugged out | |
If they seen what I done they would bug out | |
Hitting home runs while they sitting in the dug out | |
Got the needle to the wax trying to get the blood out | |
Red carpet by my feet when I’m walking out the ride | |
Graduated from the hood, I ain’t talking ‘bout Devry | |
The school of hard knox cops let the whistles blow | |
Where we kiss the sky high off the missile toe | |
Now I’ve seen more ass than a strippers pole | |
Never should’ve taught a guppy how to use a fishing pole | |
Sticks and stones may break my bones but my words more powerful than ancient Rome | |
Every problem that I’ve had man I faced alone | |
Better obey me, like it’s wheat pasted on | |
(Kero’s Chorus) | |
We staying up all night | |
(yeah you can count on that) | |
We writing our own rhymes | |
(yeah you can count on that) | |
Puttin good music over money | |
(yeah you can count on that) | |
Kid we stay on the grind | |
(all day everyday) | |
(Kero Verse 2) | |
I’m paving these roads in cobblestone | |
old school killing pro tools, using the weapon above my collar bone | |
you want a piece, I’ll break you off like Toblerone | |
you can play me on your iHome or call Tablo’s phone, | |
either way you'll hear the truth, to all the non-believers doubting, I’m rerouting your outings into a catacomb | |
Sumimasen, its a dead end, I spit that cement, hitting foes heavy like a Chevy, | |
move swift before it set in, I bridge the gap, catastrophic raps perhaps, these flows could break the levee’s | |
I walk the streets , rocking levis and Sperry’s with a mariners vibe, comb my hair to the side, | |
while my pair of J5's, buried alive, in my closet trying to surface like a serpent draw the curtains it’s time | |
I do me, like Pamela Handerson, and Michael Bivins | |
living, outside the mold I’m given, rhythms I kill em’, murderer slash friendly guy, Gemini | |
friend me by twitter, facebook, or send me hi’s | |
and despite that, some dudes fall in envy, | |
trust I keep it moving like a U-Haul or Penske | |
my style stay versatile like RuPaul in leggings | |
and you can count on that like a 10-key, the ending. | |
(Dumbfoundead Chorus) | |
We spitting that real shit | |
(yeah you can count on that) | |
That make your whole body move shit | |
(yeah you can count on that) | |
Every verse we kill sh*t | |
(yeah you can count on that) | |
Los Angeles, CA | |
(all day everyday) | |
(Outro) | |
(Dumbfoundead) Satisfaction guaranteed | |
Giving you what you need | |
Don’t believe everything that you hear, that you read | |
(Kero) We slanging you that dope, raw, uncut pure | |
Coming straight from the underground we come up sewers | |
(Dumbfoundead) Connoisseurs of the classic, scratching and backspins | |
Rhyming on cloud 9, electric relaxing | |
(Kero) From the true school, to new school to old school vibe | |
Dumbfoundead, Kero One we’re the go to guys |
zuo ci : Mike B Kim jonathan park | |
zuo qu : Mike B Kim | |
Dumbfoundead Verse 1 | |
Got my favorite record on and incense lit | |
Since an infant I' ve looked up to them big ballin' pimps | |
Shiny Impalas with rims the Cre me de le cre me | |
Young prince with a pen trying to be one of them | |
Now I' m grown, and my OG' s are locked up or drugged out | |
If they seen what I done they would bug out | |
Hitting home runs while they sitting in the dug out | |
Got the needle to the wax trying to get the blood out | |
Red carpet by my feet when I' m walking out the ride | |
Graduated from the hood, I ain' t talking ' bout Devry | |
The school of hard knox cops let the whistles blow | |
Where we kiss the sky high off the missile toe | |
Now I' ve seen more ass than a strippers pole | |
Never should' ve taught a guppy how to use a fishing pole | |
Sticks and stones may break my bones but my words more powerful than ancient Rome | |
Every problem that I' ve had man I faced alone | |
Better obey me, like it' s wheat pasted on | |
Kero' s Chorus | |
We staying up all night | |
yeah you can count on that | |
We writing our own rhymes | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Puttin good music over money | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Kid we stay on the grind | |
all day everyday | |
Kero Verse 2 | |
I' m paving these roads in cobblestone | |
old school killing pro tools, using the weapon above my collar bone | |
you want a piece, I' ll break you off like Toblerone | |
you can play me on your iHome or call Tablo' s phone, | |
either way you' ll hear the truth, to all the nonbelievers doubting, I' m rerouting your outings into a catacomb | |
Sumimasen, its a dead end, I spit that cement, hitting foes heavy like a Chevy, | |
move swift before it set in, I bridge the gap, catastrophic raps perhaps, these flows could break the levee' s | |
I walk the streets , rocking levis and Sperry' s with a mariners vibe, comb my hair to the side, | |
while my pair of J5' s, buried alive, in my closet trying to surface like a serpent draw the curtains it' s time | |
I do me, like Pamela Handerson, and Michael Bivins | |
living, outside the mold I' m given, rhythms I kill em', murderer slash friendly guy, Gemini | |
friend me by twitter, facebook, or send me hi' s | |
and despite that, some dudes fall in envy, | |
trust I keep it moving like a UHaul or Penske | |
my style stay versatile like RuPaul in leggings | |
and you can count on that like a 10key, the ending. | |
Dumbfoundead Chorus | |
We spitting that real shit | |
yeah you can count on that | |
That make your whole body move shit | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Every verse we kill sh t | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Los Angeles, CA | |
all day everyday | |
Outro | |
Dumbfoundead Satisfaction guaranteed | |
Giving you what you need | |
Don' t believe everything that you hear, that you read | |
Kero We slanging you that dope, raw, uncut pure | |
Coming straight from the underground we come up sewers | |
Dumbfoundead Connoisseurs of the classic, scratching and backspins | |
Rhyming on cloud 9, electric relaxing | |
Kero From the true school, to new school to old school vibe | |
Dumbfoundead, Kero One we' re the go to guys |
zuò cí : Mike B Kim jonathan park | |
zuò qǔ : Mike B Kim | |
Dumbfoundead Verse 1 | |
Got my favorite record on and incense lit | |
Since an infant I' ve looked up to them big ballin' pimps | |
Shiny Impalas with rims the Crè me de le crè me | |
Young prince with a pen trying to be one of them | |
Now I' m grown, and my OG' s are locked up or drugged out | |
If they seen what I done they would bug out | |
Hitting home runs while they sitting in the dug out | |
Got the needle to the wax trying to get the blood out | |
Red carpet by my feet when I' m walking out the ride | |
Graduated from the hood, I ain' t talking ' bout Devry | |
The school of hard knox cops let the whistles blow | |
Where we kiss the sky high off the missile toe | |
Now I' ve seen more ass than a strippers pole | |
Never should' ve taught a guppy how to use a fishing pole | |
Sticks and stones may break my bones but my words more powerful than ancient Rome | |
Every problem that I' ve had man I faced alone | |
Better obey me, like it' s wheat pasted on | |
Kero' s Chorus | |
We staying up all night | |
yeah you can count on that | |
We writing our own rhymes | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Puttin good music over money | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Kid we stay on the grind | |
all day everyday | |
Kero Verse 2 | |
I' m paving these roads in cobblestone | |
old school killing pro tools, using the weapon above my collar bone | |
you want a piece, I' ll break you off like Toblerone | |
you can play me on your iHome or call Tablo' s phone, | |
either way you' ll hear the truth, to all the nonbelievers doubting, I' m rerouting your outings into a catacomb | |
Sumimasen, its a dead end, I spit that cement, hitting foes heavy like a Chevy, | |
move swift before it set in, I bridge the gap, catastrophic raps perhaps, these flows could break the levee' s | |
I walk the streets , rocking levis and Sperry' s with a mariners vibe, comb my hair to the side, | |
while my pair of J5' s, buried alive, in my closet trying to surface like a serpent draw the curtains it' s time | |
I do me, like Pamela Handerson, and Michael Bivins | |
living, outside the mold I' m given, rhythms I kill em', murderer slash friendly guy, Gemini | |
friend me by twitter, facebook, or send me hi' s | |
and despite that, some dudes fall in envy, | |
trust I keep it moving like a UHaul or Penske | |
my style stay versatile like RuPaul in leggings | |
and you can count on that like a 10key, the ending. | |
Dumbfoundead Chorus | |
We spitting that real shit | |
yeah you can count on that | |
That make your whole body move shit | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Every verse we kill sh t | |
yeah you can count on that | |
Los Angeles, CA | |
all day everyday | |
Outro | |
Dumbfoundead Satisfaction guaranteed | |
Giving you what you need | |
Don' t believe everything that you hear, that you read | |
Kero We slanging you that dope, raw, uncut pure | |
Coming straight from the underground we come up sewers | |
Dumbfoundead Connoisseurs of the classic, scratching and backspins | |
Rhyming on cloud 9, electric relaxing | |
Kero From the true school, to new school to old school vibe | |
Dumbfoundead, Kero One we' re the go to guys |