Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Dźwięk


Interfejs


Poziom trudności


Akcent



język interfejsu

pl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Polityka Cookie   |   Wsparcie   |   FAQ
1
zarejestruj się / zaloguj
Lyrkit

podarować

5$

Lyrkit

podarować

10$

Lyrkit

podarować

20$

Lyrkit

I/lub wesprzyj mnie w mediach społecznościowych. sieci:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
GAWNE

Hell To Pay

 

Hell To Pay

(album: Freedom - 2018)


[GAWNE:]
I swore to the G.O.D...
I was finna get mine...
Cause mama you done made it out Chicago's Westside!
HO HO mama let's ride...
We roll
Bonnie and Clyde
I ain't going out quiet...
Got time on my left wrist
God to my right
But I'm outta my right mind
So be quiet...
And don't ask what I'm rapping for
This shit is personal...
My mama gon' live in the Hollywood Hills fore she gets to the nursing home...

Cause name five MC's in the game right now who can take me down...
I'll wait...
Crooked!
We might just have to give em' the rhythm that they came for now
When I hit em' with the potent
Profane flow
Till the propane flame goes out...

Until then
I'm the Rap Godzilla
Miraculous
I'm coming to take the president down

Cause I came for the most hateful
Cave troll
In White House
Who went AWOL
On his wife, what an a-hole
Woman say no
But he won't stop grabbing the pussy by the handful
Cause the man knows
That he can't lose
With a few scandals
When Vladimir Putin is handing him
Wikileaks used to advantage
Disparaging Hillary
Putting that nail through her casket in...

And it's so fricking apparent
This country is reaching a point of combustion
Where faith in humanity's practically vanishing...

Conservative values have died
They're inanimate

And liberals are panicking...

Turning to pussies
They're packing their bags up and moving to Canada...
Canada...?!?
You mother fuckers ain't really man enough
I don't give a fuck
I'm never running from nothing
Even if Donald's got the nukes
And he's coming for everybody in the opposition
I'ma be there opening up a can of the whoopy
I'm whooping the man
Cause I'm not a man, I'm a legend
And I reckon my records
Are breaking every single record
Known to man in a second
The world ain't ready for the return of the mic
Murdering menace
I hurt em', and burn em'
Invented
The word of demented
So call em' a medic
With anesthetic
Before they turn into someone you never heard of
Pathetic
At first I was heading for heaven
But the devil said I'd be better never repenting
For my pen again
When the venom is venerable
I'm too fucking incredible
Un-bitable flow
It isn't edible
Nor legible
My decibels and trebles
Are impeccable
When flipping a rap
I'm kicking it back
To the momentum
I first had when I was entering my ZONEEE
WHOA...
Look at the show!

Luke Gawne
Crooked I
And Craig O...

You probably thought
I wasn't gon' slaughter ever syllable
But I'm ripping em' to bits
With the wickedest spit
And bitch
I'm limitless
YOOO!

[Craig Owens:]
Walking round with thoughts of redemption
Plotting through my head, voices said speak of division
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Picture perfect fantasy is it?
Rotting till we're dead, voices spread, nobody listen!
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay

[KXNG Crooked:]
Everybody worried bout they guns and the second amendment, end it
My nigga I'ma tell you in advance
You want America to ban every weapon invented
Just put a gun in a real nigga hands
'Cause me holding steel wasn't built in the plans
Elephant in the room, I'ma poacher (Shot!)
Deliver the wound, I'ma smoke ya
Veteran in a mood, I'ma choke ya
Even if you're I'll with your hands
You still getting killed it don't matter
When the shooter go bananas in Nevada shooting outta the window of the Mandalay Bay like he had a McCain
He spraying the crowd shatter
And the data
Don't add up, more than 58 dead...
Conspiracy theorists saying they really ain't dead
But tell that to the motherfucker laying on the ground
With his brain matter splattered, head shattered on a platter
From the automatic ratatatata
That'll make you change everything in your mind frame when the time came
Dylann Roof, let his nine aim
Walked into the church, turned that shit into a fire range
Squeezing on the D'Eagle til' his mind hangs sideways
Nine slain, cries, pain, eyes drain, lies blame
How do I explain hatred to an underage kid
Who's parents got their lives claimed
By a killer
That the coppers bought a whopper for, at the Burger King
After the murder scene
They don't give a fuck if we all die!
Doing a copper like an Eazy-E walk-by
Slaughterhouse, local pig getting hogtied
Fall guy, cause all I'm seeing is you devils being greedy for dinero
But you fucking with a pharaoh, I'm the builder of the pyramid, monument
My eye's on top of it
I'm all eyes seeing, like Horus
All I ever needed was a chorus
The shit'll get 'em hooked from Philly to Middlebrook
These killers shook, you're looking at Crooked you're looking at a book
Crook is a thesaurus, "godlike being"
This industry is full of shady-ism, they be into favoritism, take a listen
Lyric disciple, I wrote the lyrical bible
Whoever said they did it, I'ma call it plagiarism, they was into Atheism
Paganism, Satanism wait a minute
Pay the menace, great attention, haters dissing, they be tripping
They be listing, crazy spitting, daily rhythms, eighty spitta's
Ate em' like a plate of chicken
Flavor sticker for the blatant haterism
Say the mission, ain't a mission if the lyricism
Isn't a main event when I'm painting pictures...
You fucking with a verbal gun clapper, I hunt rappers
My gun smoke blunt rappers
Quicker than your blaze a swisha!
[*Crooked exhales*]

[Craig Owens:]
Walking round with thoughts of redemption
Plotting through my head, voices said speak of division
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Picture perfect fantasy is it?
Rotting till we're dead, voices spread, nobody listen!
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, there'll be hell to pay

zrobione

Czy dodałeś wszystkie nieznane słowa z tej piosenki?