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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: The Roots - I Don`t Care

[Chorus: sung 2X]
I don`t care, as long as the bassline`s pumpin
The drumline bangin away
Make one move and I`ll blow you away
One false move and I`ll blow you away

[Black Thought]
Yo - I don`t really know but somebody said
that the O.G. flow, it could fuck witcha head
And the po-lice know that the green black and red
too strong to con-trol, they study what I said
Dig it - my name is `Riq, and when I`m on the mic
I`m known to spit somethin that these MC`s hate
I couldn`t care less what you feel what you say
Cause I gotta put it to you in my own special way - I`m a MONSTER!
You know I`m certified sick
I came from the corner where nobody got shit
Took the cards I was dealt, turned it into hot spit
Now I`m not only a passenger, I`m in the cockpit
Been a long time comin, I was caught in the scramble
of cats, tryin to do the same thing that they man do
Eagles born to fly, real is made to ramble
"A Dangerous Mind," I`m a prime example

[Chorus]

[Black Thought]
Superfans wanna run up on me sparkin the ground up
You need to fall back, could be NARC`s around us
You in a hot area for marchin powder
If you holdin chowder, just walk without it
Them real crook brothers don`t talk about it
They never make a move `til they thought shit out kid
I knew a lot of men who did bids for mayhem
They made a lot of money, they money never made them
The game of survival is filled with rivals
Knives and fo`-five slugs flyin in spirals
The wicked is diseased and it ain`t all viral
Could be greed and gluttony bubblin inside you
Dawg, follow your pride, the rhythm`ll guide you
Yo, follow them guys, them niggaz`ll rob you
And have you up in somethin that dont` really involve you
But you don`t give a fuck you wanna pump the volume, I know

[Chorus]

[Black Thought]
Yo, aiyyo the waistline thumpin, the face kinda jumpin the game
Lookin sweeter than a bassline bumpin
Don`t come `round me sparks and waste time frontin
Them trick ass marks`ll get the eight-five dumpin
It ain`t really bout nothin - Philly just love cuttin
They shut shit down before the law start shuttin
Get your route right cousin - be out nightclubbin relaxed
And wanna get lights out tonight brother, perhaps
It`s the percussion that keeps shit, kinetic
For some it ain`t as fame, more sweet the street credit
Some cats that play dirty didn`t live, to regret it
But move to the music he can live through the record
I`m a Philly boss player, a dope rhyme sayer
It`s Black Ink back gettin cake by the layer
by the stack, comin at us, get your weight right yeah
If not, you makin a mistake right there, f`real

[Chorus] - 2X

 

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