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

Ses


Arayüz


Zorluk seviyesi


Aksan



arayüz dili

tr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Çerez politikası   |   Destek   |   FAQ
1
Kayıt Giriş
Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

5$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

10$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

20$

Lyrkit

Ve/veya beni sosyal medyada destekleyin. ağlar:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
K.A.A.N.

Monk From Xiolin

 

Monk From Xiolin

(albüm: LMR (Losing My Religion) - 2014)


Word up, word up, niggas down the way got garbage, word up, two for fives niggas got garbage down the way, word up

I go off on this with Illuminati priests that sleep on cots inside the Vatican
The confidential record we've written but try to seal off
A predatorial pope with an alter boy he can feel
Or giving you Catholicism
A spiritual type of contradiction
This is narcissistic the prophecy's finally manifested
Through my mannerisms the majesty of this apathy
The track was appetizing antagonizing protagonist
Protection through perplexity
Politic'n with Parliament
Funkadelic a relic regardless of any reservations
Convolution was the resolution for this revolution
It's delusion giving confusion that's never fabricated
Ashes from the blunt tumble inside a book of revelations
Kick it then rip it then give it a flip bet I kill it they feel it the realest alive
I'm cunning felonious lines, they give in their rhymes
Suggesting these niggas is living a lie, I think that's a crime
That shit I despise, I'm taking the venom inside of my mind
Then I'm placing it right on the page
The shit that I'm writing should leave you amazed
I'm turning the people to fiends
And I've had a vision, I spit and you see in a dream
I definitely run for the cream
In the 36 chambers of death 'til we run out of breath
But honestly I might digress
With the way that I'm moving, refusing to rest
You can mark up the beats like a family crest
If the beat was a person I know I'd for certain
Brand all of my lyrics on top of their chest
With stab wounds for your arteries
Stories that got corroborated by cooperators
That suffer from lack of concentration
But it's complicated responsibilities obligated
Rules and regulations I'm delegating concurrently
I'm running in yo pockets and confiscating your currency
Compromising position no war is written
Condition vindictive is my rendition
With censorship and resistance
With a pen I stay consistent
But if you need some convincing
I'm eating the beat alive
And I'm only leaving you parts of it
Pardon this bipartisan
Grill that shit like it's artisan
The proclamation that like a river
My flow is steady streaming
Liquid Swords like I'm the GZA
This nigga's a fucking genius
But you're never coming in between that though
When I rip that mic, just to kill that show
Just to backtrack on black cap with a backpack full of wack raps
I'll attack that if they got a fat sack tryna get that mothafuckin fast cash
Never gotta worry 'bout a backlash
But we had a bad car crash and was running from the cops
But the sign said stop and the lights turned red
Got my foot up on the gas, nigga full speed ahead
'Til the bitch broke down in the middle of a 4-way intersection
My plans been intercepted
Regretting mistakes in the morning like where the contraceptive
I can't change your mind you were cuckold to what I'm conjuring
Every line is a classic like Leonardo da Vinci
Created a work of art comparable to Mona Lisa
Using my lyrics as brushstrokes, I let you hear the features
Coming off as pessimistic whenever sounding facetious
Veni, Vidi, Vici I'm supplying to the masses
Serenade with violins
Then devour it like Leviathan
Your hand stuck in a mandolin
While dismantling manikins
Using bodies for canvasses
Shooting sprees for your local campus
A crazy-ass nigga running rampant
Heard they want it sign sealed delivered
Motherfucker I'm the one who stamped it
I roll a blunt just to deal with stress
An insecure motherfucker let me get that off my chest
And my sanity's disappeared
I'll probably never see that bitch again
Until it all ends
Bumping Wu-Tang Clan with a Monk from Xiolin

Tamamlandı

Bu şarkıdaki tüm yabancı kelimeleri eklediniz mi?