Текст песни The Nonce - The West Is...
The Nonce - The West Is... слова песни
The West coast is blowin upThe new innovators of style, but there`s more to be uncoveredFrom the undiscovered regions of this sectorAddin to the circulations of monumental demosThis should definitely be stamped sure shot produceLIKE THIS![Verse One]Yo whassup man to the rooftop runnersThe one that`s with the bass got some puff for your soulPlus the heavy meditator still jottin down ditties but waitAn equal sum, T-mass in elevational speakThe vocal bloom while my signal was tunedDissect, my set level to a hoverous formThen release, to the ear, while I watch my spirit travelSee the evil dissapear like an atomless mathThrough the U.N.I., which infinity is IWhere my energy is based, see I got a fat sack of spaceI toned it down for a recharge of toneThen I threw it my sack, cause my travels are wildPlus a power that`ll read through a wearer`s disguiseThrough an MC form I walks, as a normal manBut my estimated time of the regular digestion of a verbstems days uncountable to manyAs a being from beyond, cuttin wax, as I break the many formsThrough a total mad account for myselfSpittin logic through a relay of words that might burnthrough a century two-ways it`s clear to the eyesThen project, with approximate, greetings that`s slowCalculated to an intricate find, and disembody thatphoto type place whenever rhyme with the oneTrue original phrase of words flowin with the page that`s written[Verse Two]As I blast, the last dash of my lyrical gasI pass, a regular MC path, break them before meHow uneasy, to be the MC like BBut you know how we do this when we give U.S.C.Or A.S.T., it`s not me to speak in stutterMy lyrics break fast, like bread and butterI utter, another style, meanwhile child I profilesThe funky-ass hip-hop makes you wanna break for the mic and freestyleUhh, but these styles ain`t freeI feel the fatness on this track, the bass frequenciestake over me, damage ya with my freaky freaky flowCatch wreck, check ya neck, I come clean in ya speakers broor sis, be you mister or missIf you need flavor and funk in your life Sugar`s what you missedUhh, it`s not good, not Nutrasweet nor a suplementA shot of the props, leavin suckers stuck in detrimentUHH![Interlude]The West Is.. "Bout to blow the fuck up"The West Is.. ??The West Is.. ??The West Is.. "The place to be"The West Is.. "down""And I`ll tell you why in just a moment""And now ladies and gentlemen" {*scratched repeatedly*}[Verse Three]Here`s a sure shot take from the ground techniquesof my speak, blowin from the WestEra ninety-three is how we hit up the stickerI glance at my ticker, it`s timeTo blow the text out my throat and get the oohs and ahhsof a applause and defeats, it gets my standIt`s how I, learned to be an MCSo take this tape, and put it witcha tapeAnd love it like ya breaks all smothered in the hissAnd plates of paper, to hold it all upAnd I can give a fuck about a industry appealBut watch `em all steal this style, and blow the fuck upUsin my shit{*miscellaneous scratches*}[Verse Four]Right, right, rightNiggaz doin all that screamin, but really don`t know shit doeYou see, if rap were a treeThen my knowledge would bear fruitsAnd if rap ever falls, then I guess I`d be a parachuteIf rap was the newsThen me, I`d be the commentaryAnd if rap were a fine bitchThen I`d be Halle Berry!If rap were a three and two pitchThen I`d be wildStrikin out MC`s, chokin up on my style