Текст песни Ice Cube - The Bomb
Ice Cube - The Bomb слова песни
It`s like a holocaust to the boss when I tossToo much knowledge kicked then you`re lostIn a shuffle of feet, Jinx the fiddlerAnd I control your mind like HitlerYou bow and vow to authoritySee now, a sucker with a style just boring meSo I show K.N.O.W.L.E.D.G.E. it might trouble youThen I transform like a DecepticonWith a mic as a bombIn my right palmBut I don`t stay calmSo panicOthers can`t flow so they go schizophrenicYou thought I dropped a dud in your faceUntil you taste the blood of the bassThen you faint, or better yet pass outWhen I`m on the mic, believe it`s ass outYou think you`re raw so you drawYou lose, you`re hung, you bite your tongueThe whole town saw in awe as you strangleA noose on your neck, and you dangleFrom side to side in the blazing heatYou`re beat, you`re dead, the fools fell offYou feel you`re turning red, it`s saidThat your head burstAnd this is only the first verseOf the bomb(Break)Don`t break up the fight let them rumbleOver the years I`ve watched some go super-bad quickNow the smell of the pen has got them sick to the stomachNow ask yourself, who`s stupid?I take funky funky beats and I loop itAnd pimp slap you in the face with the bassAnd the boom from the bomb that I dropStopYou have a flat top as a fashionI love Black women with a passionBut when they gotta go and show their ass inI gotta clown the hoes, yeahYou gotta watch the ones with the big derrieresThey`ll steer you wrongIce Cube`s got it going on, hit meFor the gangster boogie two times for the gangster rhymeThe system ain`t wholesomeThey want to put a young brother in FolsomAnd others see me on lockdownBut I come up foul then they get knocked out, wordTo the brother that rolls the herbEverybody getting knocked to the curb like thatJinx got the gat, and it`s a factHe`ll kick a funky beat to peel your capNow who`s the mack?Who`s the hoe?Who`s the trick?I got many, many styles won`t you take a pickBut don`t be alarmedWhen I trip and stumble and fumbleAnd drop the (rewind)Drop the bomb(Break)I`m solo, you ask how I`m livingStill dropping more shit than a pigeonWith the L, the E, the N, the C, the H,The M, the O, the B, the greatLyrics that make the beat swing and I gotchaIt`s the hip-hopper that don`t like coppersAnd if you try to upset the pot sonYou get kicked in the chest like a shotgunI make the beats, I make the breaksI make the rhymes that make you shakeMake you findIce Cube never caught in the middleI make shit to kick you in the ass a littleAnd still never hesitate to stutter stepOr bust a repitition on the micStill dissing all the hypeFrom left to rightHow many left to fight?So what that Lench Mob like?