Drop Dead Lane - DDL
- Слушали: 6
- Жанр: Рэп и хип-хоп
- Год: 2023
- Длительность: 3:01
- Качество: 320 kbps
- Лейбл: Our Angels
- Дата релиза: 07 июля 2023
- В подборке: Новинки русского рэпа 2023
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Drop Dead Lane - DDL
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Drop Dead Lane - DDL текст
This is our story how we pave our way to glory
How we used to freestyle on different territories
And one day we got a confidence boost, yo
We're inviting you with us back to the roots, yo
Passionate mood, son, put some juice on it, lose it
And let me introduce to you my acquaintance verse, hey
It started for me in 2003 on my birthday
My mom got me MMLP, that I firstplayed
An absolute power CD, it was a burst man
Forced my identity to change course, though
That music made me feel I had abs on a torso
That music made me switch CS: Source to the sport so
Whiteout some kind of endorsements
I imposed on myself reaching new goals, then
I felt I'll never give up, and I won't stop
And I will chop 'til I get my name in the top
'Til I get my crop, so anywhere I pop I will 'cause the resistance drop
That how a real motherfucker shoulda feel hip-hop
They call me art master, firestarter
Smart buster, bar crafter, rap prophet
Disaster, godfather, rough monster
Flyin' higher than young Vince Carter
(Doug it hater?!)
You insult me with your fuckin face being in front of me
Pick your ass take it as far away as you can outta here
Or I arrange the death tournament, offering you main role in it
Learn the script scrupulously
I guarantee you post mortem win an Oscar nominee
For (most dominantly brutalized without a rivalry)
(Here's the script)
I will cut your artery, then chop you're body up
Then utilize you partly, but keep your arm with me
So when the ceremony started I could wave your mama with it
When she's crying not for son is gone, but for you finally showed
That you are good at least for something, bitch
Maybe we're insane, bitch
Drop Dead Lane, bitch
On the mic, with the vicious strike to
Those, who don't know shit
Of what rapping really is
And my story started in 2004
Sitting home, unc's pc, trying to find porn
Man, I searched and I sought, I can't deny
I was young, dumb and horny, everything's fine
So I stopped, when I saw lots of music
Man, this rap it's so cool, so confusing
Every word, every rhyme like a jet flies
That's another level, he'll yeah, rap is mine
So I learned and I listened, I don't waste time
Every time I rap I do it like it's 8 mile
Lose yourself, motherfucker, when I'm on a mic
Michael Jordan with the flue, trust me you won't like this flight
I'ma burry you alive, I feel strong like Iron Mike
I'm gon' shoot you to the sky, honey, you won't win this fight
We enter game! What up, suckas? Drop Dead Lane! How to stop us?
Sending bullets from our mouths, killin' everyone, who doubts
Every time we're on a mike, pushing limits over clouds
Practice, rec, then deathly strike, we feel free we have no doubts
You dreaming wannabe, who counts, you'r just a copy we're not alike
That's enough, just killed the mike
How we used to freestyle on different territories
And one day we got a confidence boost, yo
We're inviting you with us back to the roots, yo
Passionate mood, son, put some juice on it, lose it
And let me introduce to you my acquaintance verse, hey
It started for me in 2003 on my birthday
My mom got me MMLP, that I firstplayed
An absolute power CD, it was a burst man
Forced my identity to change course, though
That music made me feel I had abs on a torso
That music made me switch CS: Source to the sport so
Whiteout some kind of endorsements
I imposed on myself reaching new goals, then
I felt I'll never give up, and I won't stop
And I will chop 'til I get my name in the top
'Til I get my crop, so anywhere I pop I will 'cause the resistance drop
That how a real motherfucker shoulda feel hip-hop
They call me art master, firestarter
Smart buster, bar crafter, rap prophet
Disaster, godfather, rough monster
Flyin' higher than young Vince Carter
(Doug it hater?!)
You insult me with your fuckin face being in front of me
Pick your ass take it as far away as you can outta here
Or I arrange the death tournament, offering you main role in it
Learn the script scrupulously
I guarantee you post mortem win an Oscar nominee
For (most dominantly brutalized without a rivalry)
(Here's the script)
I will cut your artery, then chop you're body up
Then utilize you partly, but keep your arm with me
So when the ceremony started I could wave your mama with it
When she's crying not for son is gone, but for you finally showed
That you are good at least for something, bitch
Maybe we're insane, bitch
Drop Dead Lane, bitch
On the mic, with the vicious strike to
Those, who don't know shit
Of what rapping really is
And my story started in 2004
Sitting home, unc's pc, trying to find porn
Man, I searched and I sought, I can't deny
I was young, dumb and horny, everything's fine
So I stopped, when I saw lots of music
Man, this rap it's so cool, so confusing
Every word, every rhyme like a jet flies
That's another level, he'll yeah, rap is mine
So I learned and I listened, I don't waste time
Every time I rap I do it like it's 8 mile
Lose yourself, motherfucker, when I'm on a mic
Michael Jordan with the flue, trust me you won't like this flight
I'ma burry you alive, I feel strong like Iron Mike
I'm gon' shoot you to the sky, honey, you won't win this fight
We enter game! What up, suckas? Drop Dead Lane! How to stop us?
Sending bullets from our mouths, killin' everyone, who doubts
Every time we're on a mike, pushing limits over clouds
Practice, rec, then deathly strike, we feel free we have no doubts
You dreaming wannabe, who counts, you'r just a copy we're not alike
That's enough, just killed the mike
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