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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: De La Soul - Intro

(When I)
(First heard)
(Criminal)
(Minded)
(I was in...)
(Damn where was I?)
(...seventh grade)
(Battlin` this other emcee)
(Smokin` a blunt and drinkin` a 40 down lower East Side with my
niggas)
(I have no idea where I was it was so long ago)
(I was on my way to a family reunion in a car on the Long Island
expressway when I heard it)
(Rooselvelt Projects)
(I was in...)
(I was outside of church when I was really little and I was doing the
wop with this girl)
(Red Alert played one of the songs on the radio)
(It was so long ago)
(Yo Merce, what`s up, this is Hanson, man, I want you to peep that
out.
Yo, kid... I was at this party, this hype
party when I heard
KRS` Criminal Minded. I`ll call you back, peace.)
(All right!)
(All right!)
(All right!)
(All right!)
POS:
Channeling, in sync so my what brings that testament
To cover twelve inches of funk
Flip like as if I was the Dalek himself
Specialising in cleansing like the its of
Elephants, Dove hits bibles out the park, man
Don`t wven try to toss bleach, I`m too dark and
Major more soul than James` "Escapism"
De La Soul is here to stay like racism
Patrick know and I`mma put the pillow off the bed
As I lurk up on your thoughts while phones on your head
Riff a tech pro, flex Sue, running you the links
Scout weather, pouring rain outta duck`s survive links
And if one winks for pink slips, the slips are short
Dull-minded as sperm, to give out for the souls I report
I sport too fly for the forty-ounce drinker
I sport too fly for a forty-ounce thinker
A fresh linen scent so sniffer on the two-inch
A talker of the berg without weed influence
So stick to you Naughty By Natures and your Kane
`Cause graffiti that I based upn the wax is insane
DOVE:
Grand groove, I wish I had the flavor bid
Give me six bottles of beer, I take the seventh one free
I got the chandelier, kick, constructed by my man
Little elf, big four gets the zootie for the self
Long Island living, what, twelve o`clock dawn
Jiggy-not see me so I trip straight to your porches
Mr Partymaker puts the boogers in your bottle
Straw it and drink, what bees gotta be`s
`Cause I snort the crazy-crazies
Man, I kick the Franken-style, dig the bolts in my neck
Wreck, ship, boat, rock
Heavy metal grooves ain`t the infinite
Here I hips to the hops
I`m looking for the words in the faces of a prince
That brother been down ever since soaked cheese
And motor go smiling
Hey, how ya doin`
Now, meet in front of Big Lou`s fighting
Hey, y`all reminisce, six streets, little miles
Straight to my avenue
(Aaaah... aaaggh)
Six streets, went miles straight to my avenue
I`m headed for the bigger E, for the bitter OE, not me
Here`s my Malibu, child, here`s my Malibu
Buckshot honeys, dig a gun and go aaaahhhhh...

 

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