Nine Thou (Superstars Remix) [320] (исполнитель: Styles Of Beyond)
Verse 1: Hey yo first things first It's time to shake ground in the eighth round Box battle & break down From the beat & the wild tone, jump in the cyclone S t yles, yes yes I know Red beam, maxine Pack red beam Put 'em up, You plucked a bad seed Off the wall spitting, in the gorilla tag-team What's up now? duck down, stuff they can't breathe Yo! you kno the routine, the demon effect Please, don't step, you wanna be one of my pet peeve's The more beef the better, sound strange but you all wanna creep together Ok? in the club what a cheesy sweater What not, we got so much street credit, the rookie police let us Now that's foolish, cuz we don't act sweet Cuz I [bad word] 10 laps in a track meet [bad word] Keep it moving it's on now Making it punk rile Shaking the funk rile Rip it apart style Fakin' the funk pal Dunk watch the punk What, watch your battleship get sunk down Click(click), pow(pow), nine(nine) thou(thou), what? Just what I thought, what's up now? huh(2nd time) Verse 2: Hold it down, never give in Styles having your limbs Or weather you want it to end Dirty m'again, I burn him again 05 serving them sins Or 30 your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind Hoped'd out, what you want, take a look at my grin I'm a fish you can tell by the flippers & fin's C'mon, yo! I got a wack style Pivot the offspring & joke with 'em The distorted guitar stream Who am [bad word] roulette, komoti [bad word] your bed, hotter than qubec in july Area 51, stereo, vibe, gun live Here we go, s o b, drop some Were the kids in the hall, with the new lactate Blast from both angles, a boondock saint So, get up get up & let the sound hit ya Snap this audio-style picture uh! (Repeat [bad word] Verse 3: Who the [bad word] is spliting the belly of a shellfish Chilling your style playing the fell blitz Drilling your brain, like rap & video-games But it's a **** the styles get'n into your face Yo! what kind of stuff is he drawn Really it's styles, c'mon punk shove off You really gotta be gone, ripped out of your brain Triped over your lip to dispossess o b game What's with this chilling eating kibbles'n bits There aint enough street talking the globe, I can't fix Get it? I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom & it drip's up in 'em & it get's the women in a quick dilemma We can settle it now, & I don't kno who did it but they said it was styles Click, pow, nine thou, what? just what I thought what's up now?hu Click, pow nine thou, what? just what I thought what's up now? hu (x2)