Текст песни Thirstin Howl III f Unique London - Brooklyn Hard Rock
Thirstin Howl III f Unique London - Brooklyn Hard Rock слова песни
* a shorter version of this song appears on "Soundbombing 2"[Unique London]Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!![Thirstin Howl III]My mind is stronger than the pictures in your muscle booksWith more manners, than all of the HuxtablesPain before pleasure (U.L.: Death before dishonor!)Turn rap wannabe piranhas into _A Fish Called Wanda_Swordfish.. to mermaids..I lay down the law without being represented by an attor-neyOverqualified, for all technical institutesI get the job done when you barely make it past the interviewThe streets is watchin, eyeballin -- careful!Everybody wants a piece of me like I`m a James Brown sampleSpittin flames -- call the fire warden!Out of town, violent tourist, glove gripIsotoner, sands of time, priceless momentsDisguised as doorman -- plug, vital organsWith my bare hands, I fight your swordmen, smokescreenrifles scorchin -- even my bible`s stolen![Unique London]Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!![Thirstin Howl III]Imagine, life without handcuffsConcentration -- with the brain muscle tissue of SamsonThe benchpress, of a gold medal-ist, in the olympicsRifle reach of Manute Bol`s two armsI`m shotgun ammunition -- soon to be airingWhen I`m not in my shell (U.L.: All you see are his balls baring!)The rap, promoter, I start your motorwith a screwdriver -- break into your crib with a tenedor or cuchara, or bent hangerWho wanna get it on? My mic is cocked, I`m overanxious!!Before battles, get a permit to come within two blocks radiusKiss your mother, see your preacher, and study fire-exit safety tipsBring witcha, a fire extinguisherI make the whole scene (U.L.: BLOODY!) with an English touchIn ninety-eight I`m still robbin people for sheepskin glovesHad three gazelles, admitted nothing when I sat in my cell[Unique London]Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!![Thirstin Howl III]A strongarm with lyrics, watch how I prove myselfWhether shadowboxing or full contact I maneuver wellAbout to have rap locked, with rhymes two to a cellInmate in segregated housin unit refusin the mailNervous, chain smoker, high blood pressureMaster fool or court jester, lyrical sport expertsDress for tennis, the mind of Minolta with special-effect lensesParade of all-stars, with Brownsville Bullet gold cardsDon`t played with a full deck, as positive as my drug urine testMy rhymes do to your brain what bullets do to flesh!Rockin the house, the cradle, the boat, in the eighth grade coulda rocked the bells, but I was more comfortable in straight legsStrong, like the contribution to rap Kane gaveMy ego and my conscience refuse to share the same space!Treacherous like Naughty By Nature and Kool Moe DeeWouldn`t catch me Half Steppin`, even if I lost both feet![Unique London]Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!