Текст (слова) песни: KRS-One - Mortal Thought (I Must Roc the Mic)

Adjust that treble right now adjust the bass
Turn it up, stop frontin
C`mon, turn it up
Alright, check it out ninety-three lyrics, here we go
Bo!

I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the mic

Are you tired of lyrical liars, passing fliers
Wannabe MC`s, but really good triers
Tripping over mic cords, getting you bored
A total fraud, this kind of thing I can`t afford, so I
pick up the mic and kill it ill it top bill it
The cough is a skillet, where MC`s get fried in it
You got beef chill it, blood I spill it
After seven long years of ripping the party and I`m still widdit
You call my name I don`t think about suing ya
I come to the club with that BOOYAKA
Laughing while I`m doin ya the crowd is booin ya
Gimme one month, record for record on tape I`ll ruin ya
Some likkle awl pon sound bwoy wan fi rule de city
His style is lookin pretty beats and rhymes are dibby dibby
Here comes the rootical ratical teacha
I`ll eat ya defeat ya beat ya till ya stagger and ya teeth chatter
You`ll be goin through convulsions as I flash data
Any rapper can be a decapitated rapper now what`s the matter
You`re full of more junk than a sausage
Let me show you what a real hip-hop artist

*DJ Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!"*

I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the mic

Of course yeah I`m the most brilliant recording artist in your life
Never have to repeat a rhyme style twice, precise
In a lyrical drought like water to your lips oh yes my lyrics will suffice
I`m nice, like beans and rice, I am delicious
Who`s the freshest lyricist on the mic, you don`t want to fuck with Kris is
Lyric for lyric rhyme for rhyme style for style I break you like dishes
Either you come fully correct or the lyrics you simply makin wishes
We got no time for fake black leaders and dreamers blowin wishes
youse a fraud, I mean a fraud like in fraudulation
I know what it is, the crown of rhyme supremacy you`re tastin
And yes, before the flavor hits your greedy tongue
You get ripped up by KRS-One
Now, lyrics, somebody want lyrics, from the lyrical terrorist
Here`s a little somethin for you all to remember Kris, and remember this
I am no pessimist, more of an optimist
Activist revolutionist, yes the hardest artist
And the smartest, Premier, spark this

*Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!"*

I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the mic

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Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка 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: KRS-One - Mortal Thought (I Must Roc the Mic) Adjust that treble right now adjust the bass Turn it up, stop frontin C`mon, turn it up Alright, check it out ninety-three lyrics, here we go Bo! I never want a jheri curl up under my hat The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black I never want money if my lyrics are wack So I must, roc, the mic I play only the reggae and I play only rap I rock the African, the European, and Jap Beneath I got to show you that I am all that So I must, roc, the mic Are you tired of lyrical liars, passing fliers Wannabe MC`s, but really good triers Tripping over mic cords, getting you bored A total fraud, this kind of thing I can`t afford, so I pick up the mic and kill it ill it top bill it The cough is a skillet, where MC`s get fried in it You got beef chill it, blood I spill it After seven long years of ripping the party and I`m still widdit You call my name I don`t think about suing ya I come to the club with that BOOYAKA Laughing while I`m doin ya the crowd is booin ya Gimme one month, record for record on tape I`ll ruin ya Some likkle awl pon sound bwoy wan fi rule de city His style is lookin pretty beats and rhymes are dibby dibby Here comes the rootical ratical teacha I`ll eat ya defeat ya beat ya till ya stagger and ya teeth chatter You`ll be goin through convulsions as I flash data Any rapper can be a decapitated rapper now what`s the matter You`re full of more junk than a sausage Let me show you what a real hip-hop artist DJ Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!" I never want a jheri curl up under my hat The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black I never want money if my lyrics are wack So I must, roc, the mic I play only the reggae and I play only rap I rock the African, the European, and Jap Beneath I got to show you that I am all that So I must, roc, the mic Of course yeah I`m the most brilliant recording artist in your life Never have to repeat a rhyme style twice, precise In a lyrical drought like water to your lips oh yes my lyrics will suffice I`m nice, like beans and rice, I am delicious Who`s the freshest lyricist on the mic, you don`t want to fuck with Kris is Lyric for lyric rhyme for rhyme style for style I break you like dishes Either you come fully correct or the lyrics you simply makin wishes We got no time for fake black leaders and dreamers blowin wishes youse a fraud, I mean a fraud like in fraudulation I know what it is, the crown of rhyme supremacy you`re tastin And yes, before the flavor hits your greedy tongue You get ripped up by KRS-One Now, lyrics, somebody want lyrics, from the lyrical terrorist Here`s a little somethin for you all to remember Kris, and remember this I am no pessimist, more of an optimist Activist revolutionist, yes the hardest artist And the smartest, Premier, spark this Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!" I never want a jheri curl up under my hat The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black I never want money if my lyrics are wack So I must, roc, the mic I play only the reggae and I play only rap I rock the African, the European, and Jap Beneath I got to show you that I am all that So I must, roc, the mic Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни Mortal Thought (I Must Roc the Mic): http://musworld.ru/music/eng/110/1/7847.html Все тексты песен: KRS-One » KRS-One - Hot » KRS-One - Gunnen` Em Down » KRS-One - Fourth QuarterFree Throws » KRS-One - You Don`t Really Want It » KRS-One - Temple Tactics » KRS-One - I Can`t Wake Up » KRS-One - The Sneak Attack » KRS-One - WordPerfect » KRS-One - Philosophical » KRS-One - Phucked » KRS-One - Can`t Stop/The MC 12" » KRS-One - Krush Them » KRS-One - Knowledge Reigns Supreme » KRS-One - The French Connection » KRS-One - Ova Here » KRS-One - Can`t Stop » KRS-One - Ya Feel Dat » KRS-One - What Kinda World » KRS-One - High School High soundtrack » KRS-One - Are You Ready for This Рекомендуем скачать: » Геннадий Васильев - Сонет » Гражданская оборона, ГрОб - Как листовка » Гости из Будущего - Так отважно » Гражданская оборона, ГрОб - Мышеловка » Гражданская оборона, ГрОб - Жить » Геннадий Жуков - Письма из города. Дворик » Гражданская оборона, ГрОб - Забота у нас такая » Геннадий Жуков - Письма из города. Часы » Гарин Юрий - Грушинское братство » Григорий Дикштейн - Нищий философ (Из цикла Одесские рассказы) » Гера Грач - Северная История » Геннадий Васильев - Сретенье » Гости из Будущего - Хэй, ди-джей » Георгий Дубенецкий - Мастерская » Гарик Кричевский - Мой номер 245 » Григорий Дикштейн - До чего же нас мало на свете... » Григорий Дикштейн - Крепи ряды, шестидесятник » Григорий Дикштейн - Сезон отпусков » Гиви Чрелашвили - Ряды » Геннадий Жуков - Птицу найдешь
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