letra de why - northeaster
[intro]
it’s a hard-knock life for you (x2)
i got you on my – sh-t list b-tch!
yung abi! suck my d-ck
it’s a hard-knock life!
[intro ii]
yeah
/why?/
[verse i]
you thought i wouldn’t finish the job i started?
f-ck your jewelry, you just got outsmarted!
i’m the motherf-ckin’ king, you’re faint-hearted
you couldn’t throw a punch and i’m plain brawlin’
i’m gonna f-ck up the german like the red army
i write my own lyrics – my head’s gnarly
should’ve took more time, this ain’t fast draw
you dissed me back and that was the last straw!
fake eminem? i’m the only heir to the throne
ain’t even blonde, feel my brain in a storm
kinda like jason, i’m chasin’ your blood
i’m gracin’ while i’m facin’ this fraud!
so much autotune, he sounds like stephen hawking
makes no sense, i guess that f-cker’s choking
just take the l and f-ck off
this ain’t a diss, b-tch, this is a pluck off!
why’d you f-ckin’ dare to diss me?
couldn’t do anything but to p-ss me
man, i regret all the time i wasted
he can’t do more than copy and pastin’
a diss track with four hooks and sixteen bars? (sixteen bars)
that’s low, even for talentless stupid “trapstars”
coal burns lot brighter than a diamond
your timing sucks, we’re on our prime and
i warned you, i’ll squash you, maggot
at least i’m just poor, yung, you’re a f-ggot
it takes six of you to fight me then
and you still talkin’ about bein’ a man
these p-ssies can’t roam the streets alone
‘cuz if i catch ’em, i’m gonna f-ck them until the dawn
[interlude]
did you think you could scare me? dumb–ss b-tch
you are cowards. playin’ tough, actin’ like a gangsta
get the f-ck out of here!
[verse ii]
you talkin’ way too much about guns and dough
for a guy who’s never been to a studio
sucker records his songs at his bedroom
yung abi’s a poser who will be dead soon
who the f-ck is that manager, pilot?
i’ll deepthroat that c-nt ’til he’s silent
109, this ain’t a game, this is a battle
so you idiots should quit the t-ttle-tattle
vanilla c has the flattest b-tt
the whole label takin’ turns on that sl-t
make your friends comment how good you roast
sh-t! even they know that you had lost
rap is my estate, you’re just a tenant
third round knockout, i win the pennant
maybe one day you might be decent
until that i’m cuttin’ up all of you motherf-ckers, this is vice records
[outro]
bi dakika bi dakika! bu nedir oğlum?
autotune yok! nakarat yok!
karıdan bahsetmiyor, paradan bahsetmiyor!
arabadan, uyuşturucudan, silahtan bahsetmiyor!
bu nasıl bir trap amına koyayım? oğlum sende hiç akıl yok- -silah sesi-
ahh vuruldum! yani ich bin erschossen!
gerçek rap bu, kapışamazsınız. yerde kal, orospu çocuğu
beş yerinden vuracam seni! beş! fünf! amına kod- -silah sesi-
kimlerden laf işitiyoruz, şaka gibi!
sascha! anneni götünden, kız kardeşini de amından sikeyim hahahahah!
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