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| Artistes : 2141 |
| Albums : 1673 |
| Paroles : 43177 |
| Parole(s) en attente : 0 |
| Clips : 5176 |
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Crazy Town - Face The Music Paroles
| Paroles de Face The Music |
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Les textes ne sont pas diffusés intégralement, mais en courte citation, au sens de la loi 122-5 du CPI.
Now, we push rhymes, crazy rhymes
Words force fed to your mind.
Trace the source brother, brother.
Face the music, don’t confuse it for another.
Nothing comes close to this
Kiss the sky.
These grands change hands
As our fans multiply.
We push rhymes.
People gather ‘round when we
Kick them.
Go Boy, Shifty stick ‘em.
Ha ha ha stick ‘em.
Burning bridges, smoking ism,
Losing my religion,
Shooting the breeze,
We got these MC’s ass kissing.
If you can’t take the heat,
Then get your ass out of the kitchen.
I freak it off the wall.
Crammin’, slammin’ points of view
Into your fucking skull.
Bitch, that’s why we stick ‘em.
Chorus:
Stick ‘em
Ha ha ha stick ‘em
Ha stick ‘em, ha ha ha stick ‘em.
Stick ‘em, ha ha ha stick ‘em
Stick ‘em, stick-em, stick ‘em.
Stick ‘em, ha ha ha stick ‘em.
Ha stick ‘em, ha ha ha stick ‘em.
Well, I tapped you on the spinal
With an anesthetic.
Epic is the definition
Written into grooves of vinyl.
It’s called survival,
When I drop the stylish into friction.
Techtonic traits.
Drifting like the plates,
It shakes like the quakes in Cali.
The mystic Majaraji.
Mission of the kamikaze comeback kid.
Producer super status.
I’m here to claim my reign
As the baddest beat peddler.
So, place your bet middler.
The roof is a blaze.
And yo, we’re smoking out the fiddler.
We’re sipping on a hundred proof liquor.
Welcome to the dooms day dawning.
Hot like the sun.
No time to relax.
We pack the doomsday gun.
Chorus
Call me a drifter, richter.
When I hit you with the stick ‘em.
I’m talking shit.
The pit starter.
A wanted man.
The one who cuffed your daughter
To my bed stand
AND
I talk a lot of shit
because I know a lot of shit
I know, I said I’d quit.
But I just want another hit.
It’s madness.
Pimping like Gladys,
The baddest.
Maintain our status.
That is no question.
Releasing tension,
As we step into the seventh dimension.
This jabber jaw’s, jaws are slapping.
We’s what’s happening.
Bones are breaking
And fingers snapping.
The pressure’s on
With non-stop action.
Whether banging your head
Or steady maxing.
Chorus
Texte soumis aux Droits d'Auteur - Réservé à un usage privé ou éducatif. |
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