Текст песни Dr. Dooom (Kool Keith) - Brothers Feel Fly
Dr. Dooom (Kool Keith) - Brothers Feel Fly слова песни
Yo, I bought that album man, it`s wack manI`m tellin you, I don`t like itI`ma be honest man Honest?I`m dead up, I`m serious Serious?I don`t feel it man, the drums are too weakI don`t feel the snaresCoulda used a different type of sampleYou`re wack man, yeah..Yo, that kid is wack, his father`s wackHis group is wack, that`s word word blackI`m detrimental, I hop up on this instrumentalSmack your face with mitts, a pile of grease filled with gritsBurn you like Teddy Pendergrass, tap you on that assI`m Big Jim, shut your mouth, call me Jimmy SteelDon`t freestyle, Chemical Bank, y`all keep it realOn Lollapalooza, their butts packed with German LugersOn tour dates, stashin mad work in milk cratesRock groups get smacked, speakers dropped, on they backSome damage I`m raw, kid the blood is on your kneecapsLet`s get scuffed up, your castle more than roughed upPockets with royalties, you gets, no loyaltiesThat`s word bill, sell your house`s mortgage off the hillI`m for real necks, payin crackers for my AmpexYeah!It`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)It`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)You got commercial records, no monies in your wack pocketsYou get jerked, my Master-charge-Card`s doin workEight thousand grills, all these Franklin heads, big head billsYou go `head wrap balogna sandwich in yo` backpackSchool kids up no joke on record labels, y`all still brokeDon`t flex at me, who`s this kid, standin next to meI got versatile sawed-off shotgun WIC checks with meSuckers I`m android, no time to feel paranoidBlow out your face, pull your skull back, now give me spaceMy wig is ready, disguised, ridin on the subwayBaldhead on 42nd Street, down on BroadwayWith Tony Lou, out of prison, my crew from RahwayThat`s word Lou, I`m in New York, I`m here to see youCut back your weak tracks, and vomit on your vinyl waxI`m here, like gladiator, air-conditioned centralYou smokin embalmin fluid, elephants are mentalI got dreams to wear your parts off your cash machineThat`s in the window me with bags, in the Wells FargoChangin your incite, I`m high class, with appetiteYou no comp, for roast pigs, I deleteYour style is neckbone, my cab rides by your streetYeah!It`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)It`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)I twist the bums out the project, elevator lights is outY`all wanna step to Phi B, big like the ? familyHoldin your ear, like you handicapped, you can`t hearTouch up your young style delivery, don`t appealFollow through, instructions easy for your rap crewThat`s word, that kid you rapped, sound like BooBooStinky feet, with razor bumps, tryin to rap on beatI cut your fog lamp down like meat, cut, by the poundHeather B, step to me, with your thin soundTwist your knobs, your engineer, mixed like Baskin-Rob`sYou on the charts, with just enough to Pop TartsPublishin checks you signed off, you gets no respectYou gets to lease the Benz, cryin loud with your WIC checkNo sale retail, deposit all direct salesYeah! Check itIt`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)It`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)It`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)It`s the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)Yeah!Yeah.. styles.. retarded..Brothers feelin fly..