Текст песни KatchPhraze - Bass Akwards
KatchPhraze - Bass Akwards слова песни
[KatchPhraze]"It`s like nowadays all this hip hop is all about getting paid and letting everyone else know about it. (It`s wack.) We forgot where it all started, where it`s supposed to be going But I`m here to change all that... because it has to be done. So without further adieux..""Lemme introduce myself" -> Pharoahe MonchWhen this mic`s in my hand it`s like grains for sandTime is ticking so I`m moving `to bigger and better plansWith my name up in lights scrolled across billboardsWhile gun clappin` happy crowds are doing rounds of applauseEmcees flap their jaws and still reep the bennifitsSince 95` and they`re the reason that hip hops turned to shitFrom the moment that I stepped on the stage I got my wreck onExpressing what up until now wsa getting slept onI opened up your eyes to late sessions in the parkswhen the only light we had was off the Blunts that we sparkedMoved on to new misions between the fake and the realRecord deal hungry artists `got the wrong crowd appeal, in they` sightsAin`t it funny dirty money`s turnin` Honest Edinto a thief, sleepin` on my record releaseDate, wait till your putting down a sound of your ownThen vacate cause this ain`t home no more, so get goneIt`s all wrong and Bass AkwardsThese wack rappers want a tip?go off roading in a Geo TrackerIt`s hip hopIt`s mic turntables and beat boxIt`s the breakers in the circles pumping up they` reeboxIn my name in grafitti scrolled across the wallsAnd it`s the love that I`m gettin` from all of ya`llKeep the thugs in the clubs , we`ll keep the image legitI dedicate this song to everyone who said you ain`t shit, word up[Chorus]"Holler For a Dolla" (L da Head Toucha)"Shut the Hell Up" (Juice)"Half these rappers started rappin` a couple a` gold chains ago" (Planet Asia)"It`s Hip Hop" (Akbar)"So who the fuck are you?" (Mad Skillz)"exploited by many, understood by few" (J-Live)This is my lifeThis is what I strive forThe only thing I`d die forThe reason that I opened up my eye for`I live it, breath it, feel it, need it, fall asleep to itWake up in the morning with my clock bumpin` musicFrequent my job`s bathroom, HandyCap StallsWritin` songs down on toilet paper pressed against the wallOr recitin` rhymes at three in the morn` on school nightswith the system thumpin on my way to meet you in the park fightsHit up shows left and right to get my name knownRhyming in the basement on a 20 dollar microphoneI drove my parents nuts with my walk man, head noddingTrailing off during the lectures while they`re still talkingAt times in life I wrote songs of broken heartsAnd battles won by reputation `fore the verse even startsAnd I...put my heart into it when I press it to waxForever, I keeps it baggy with my hat to the backFinally the long awaited let tha whole world peep itAnd Lemmie let you in on a secret yo[Chorus]"Holler For a Dolla" (L da Head Toucha)"Shut the Hell Up" (Juice)"Half these rappers started rappin` a couple a` gold chains ago" (Planet Asia)"It`s Hip Hop" (Akbar)"So who the fuck are you?" (Mad Skillz)"exploited by many, understood by few" (J-Live)I remember back in the days when I was first starting outWriting songs not even I knew what the fuck they` aboutOh how I`ve come along since over other`s instrumentalsPaying for open mics so I could boost my credentialsLike a basement chemist, making moves independentIt`s slow as hell, especially when your face is blemishedAnd with candy coated bullshit flooding our magazinesThat`s the furthest thing from hip hop I`ve ever seenI hate to crush dreams like castles of plastacineBut trends go up and down like kids on trampolinesStand on the finest green and watch my neighbours starrin` jealousWhile fellow emcees fall behind because they acted over zealous I grew up on the right side of town left handedStuck here to fend for my own, left strandedSpending overtime with this shit just like youHate on me, I dedicate this right back to spite youA brand new jack rappin for the does? I`m notI`m gettin` slept on for lack of dreadlocks when I rockWho woulda` thought all this talk would play out to real life?Maybe the time in that basement wasn`t wasted with a micIn my hand it`s precise where it happens sonCome one day, gone the next like fashionWhatcha gonna` do when your computer starts crashin`?Or someone sees through your weak threats with lack of actionShit that don`t matter, your topics are too soft?I release my bloated bladder the moment I`m pissed offI`m sick of hearing circa early 80`s ripped offBy these corny mutherfuckers too scared to lip offMy soul is not for sale, I don`t need to hear the costKatch me rhyming over beats that`s produced by ambiance...there you go