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Eminem - Sing For The Moment
Вчера по MTV крутили, вот и подобрал от нечего делать. А вообще, это вторая
песня (текст??) Эминема, которая мне понравилась. Странно...
Вся песня играется следующими аккордами:
Fm(8) D#(6) C#(4) D#(6)
Fm(1) Gm(3) G#(4) A#(6)
(цифра после аккорда означает, с какого лада его играть. Вообще, в принципе, кто умеет,
могут и первую часть играть как Fm(1) D#(3) C#(1) D#(3), но это довольно сложно, так
что начинающим порекомендую играть как я написал выше.)
Аккорды рисовать не буду - для этого есть генератор, зря что ли люди старались? =)
Да, в конце припева еще идет H. Проигрывать лучше легким перебором,
то бишь Fm (4-3-2-1) D# (4-3-2-1) etc., цифры - это номер струны, 1 - самая тонкая.:).
Вот текст, если кому интересно:
Verse 1
These ideas are nightmares for white parents, whose worst fear is a child with dyed
hair and who likes earrings/Like whatever they say has no bearing, itґs so scary in
a house that allows no swearing/to see him walking around with his headphones blaring,
alone in his own zone, cold and he donґt care/Heґs a problem child, and what bothers
him all comes out, when he talks about, his fuckinґ dad walkinґ out/cuz he just hates
him so bad that he blocks him out. If he ever saw him again heґd probably knock him
out/His thoughts are wacked, heґs mad so heґs talkinґ back, talkinґ black, brainwashed
from rock and rap/He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap, his step-father hit
him, so he socked him back/and broke his nose, his house is a broken home. Thereґs
no control, he just letґs his emotions go...
Chorus
Cґmon! Sing with me (Sing!)/Sing for the year (Sing It)/Sing for the laughter/ sing for
the tear (Cґmon!) / Sing it with me/Just for today/Maybe tomorrow/The good Lord will
take you away...
Verse 2
Entertainment is changinґ, intertwininґ with gangstas, in the land of the killers, a
sinnerґs mind is a sanctum/ unholy, only have one homie, only this gun, lonely cuz donґt
anyone know me/Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are a
mothafucka they can be great/ or they can degrate, or even worse they can teach hate/Itґs
like these kids hang on every single statement we make, like they worship us/plus all the
stores ship us platinum, now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?/ From standinґ
on corners and porches just rappinґ; to havinґ a fortune, no more kissinґ ass/But then
these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you, fans turn on you, attorneys all
want a turn at you/To get they hands on every dime you have, they want you to lose your
mind every time you mad/So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon. Any
dispute wonґt hesitate to produce handguns/Thatґs why these prosecutors wanna convict me,
strictly just to get me off of these streets quickly/But all they kids be listeninґ to me
religiously, so Iґm signinґ CDs while police fingerprint me/Theyґre for the judgeґs
daughter but his grudge is against me. If Iґm such a fuckinґ menace, this shit doesnґt
make sense B/Itґs all political, if my music is literal, and Iґm a criminal how the fuck
can I raise a little girl?/I couldnґt. I wouldnґt be fit to. Youґre full of shit too,
Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you!
Chorus
Verse 3
They say music can alter moods and talk to you, well can it load a gun up for you , and
cock it too?/Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude, just tell the judge
it was my fault and Iґll get sued/See what these kids do is hear about us totinґ pistols
and they want to get one cuz they think the shitґs cool/not knowinґ we really just
protectinґ ourselves, we entertainers, of course the shitґs affectinґ our sales, you
ignoramus/But music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our checks
in the mail. Itґs fucked up ainґt it?/ How we can come from practically nothing to being
able to have any fuckinґ thing that we wanted/Thatґs why we sing for these kids, who
donґt have a thing except for a dream, and a fuckinґ rap magazine/who post pin-up
pictures on they walls all day long, idolize they favorite rappers and know all they
songs/Or for anyone whoґs ever been through shit in their lives, till they sit and they
cry at night wishinґ theyґd die/Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they
vibe. Weґre nothinґ to you but weґre the fuckinґ shit in they eyes/thatґs why we seize
the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it, cuz we consider these
minutes golden/and maybe theyґll admit it when weґre gone. Just let our spirits live on,
through our lyrics that you hear in our songs and we can...
Chorus X2
(Альбом THE EMINEM SHOW, 2002)
песня (текст??) Эминема, которая мне понравилась. Странно...
Вся песня играется следующими аккордами:
Fm(8) D#(6) C#(4) D#(6)
Fm(1) Gm(3) G#(4) A#(6)
(цифра после аккорда означает, с какого лада его играть. Вообще, в принципе, кто умеет,
могут и первую часть играть как Fm(1) D#(3) C#(1) D#(3), но это довольно сложно, так
что начинающим порекомендую играть как я написал выше.)
Аккорды рисовать не буду - для этого есть генератор, зря что ли люди старались? =)
Да, в конце припева еще идет H. Проигрывать лучше легким перебором,
то бишь Fm (4-3-2-1) D# (4-3-2-1) etc., цифры - это номер струны, 1 - самая тонкая.:).
Вот текст, если кому интересно:
Verse 1
These ideas are nightmares for white parents, whose worst fear is a child with dyed
hair and who likes earrings/Like whatever they say has no bearing, itґs so scary in
a house that allows no swearing/to see him walking around with his headphones blaring,
alone in his own zone, cold and he donґt care/Heґs a problem child, and what bothers
him all comes out, when he talks about, his fuckinґ dad walkinґ out/cuz he just hates
him so bad that he blocks him out. If he ever saw him again heґd probably knock him
out/His thoughts are wacked, heґs mad so heґs talkinґ back, talkinґ black, brainwashed
from rock and rap/He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking cap, his step-father hit
him, so he socked him back/and broke his nose, his house is a broken home. Thereґs
no control, he just letґs his emotions go...
Chorus
Cґmon! Sing with me (Sing!)/Sing for the year (Sing It)/Sing for the laughter/ sing for
the tear (Cґmon!) / Sing it with me/Just for today/Maybe tomorrow/The good Lord will
take you away...
Verse 2
Entertainment is changinґ, intertwininґ with gangstas, in the land of the killers, a
sinnerґs mind is a sanctum/ unholy, only have one homie, only this gun, lonely cuz donґt
anyone know me/Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are a
mothafucka they can be great/ or they can degrate, or even worse they can teach hate/Itґs
like these kids hang on every single statement we make, like they worship us/plus all the
stores ship us platinum, now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?/ From standinґ
on corners and porches just rappinґ; to havinґ a fortune, no more kissinґ ass/But then
these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you, fans turn on you, attorneys all
want a turn at you/To get they hands on every dime you have, they want you to lose your
mind every time you mad/So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon. Any
dispute wonґt hesitate to produce handguns/Thatґs why these prosecutors wanna convict me,
strictly just to get me off of these streets quickly/But all they kids be listeninґ to me
religiously, so Iґm signinґ CDs while police fingerprint me/Theyґre for the judgeґs
daughter but his grudge is against me. If Iґm such a fuckinґ menace, this shit doesnґt
make sense B/Itґs all political, if my music is literal, and Iґm a criminal how the fuck
can I raise a little girl?/I couldnґt. I wouldnґt be fit to. Youґre full of shit too,
Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you!
Chorus
Verse 3
They say music can alter moods and talk to you, well can it load a gun up for you , and
cock it too?/Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude, just tell the judge
it was my fault and Iґll get sued/See what these kids do is hear about us totinґ pistols
and they want to get one cuz they think the shitґs cool/not knowinґ we really just
protectinґ ourselves, we entertainers, of course the shitґs affectinґ our sales, you
ignoramus/But music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our checks
in the mail. Itґs fucked up ainґt it?/ How we can come from practically nothing to being
able to have any fuckinґ thing that we wanted/Thatґs why we sing for these kids, who
donґt have a thing except for a dream, and a fuckinґ rap magazine/who post pin-up
pictures on they walls all day long, idolize they favorite rappers and know all they
songs/Or for anyone whoґs ever been through shit in their lives, till they sit and they
cry at night wishinґ theyґd die/Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they
vibe. Weґre nothinґ to you but weґre the fuckinґ shit in they eyes/thatґs why we seize
the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it, cuz we consider these
minutes golden/and maybe theyґll admit it when weґre gone. Just let our spirits live on,
through our lyrics that you hear in our songs and we can...
Chorus X2
(Альбом THE EMINEM SHOW, 2002)
Другие аккорды Eminem:
Тексты песен Eminem: