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letra de father yod - vinnie paz

[intro:]
– to teach, what do you teach?
– toilet? training one years…
– hm, have you started teachin’ here at the hospital?
– for urine tests…
– pardon?
– urine tests

[verse 1: vinnie paz]
yeah, it’s a couple of rocks from the crowns (move up…!)
and the shooters on the roof so it’s dots on the ground (they waitin’)
it’s a sly-fi that’s a bum stock on the pound
this sh-t is heavy and you can go blind from the sound (ba ba ba bap!)
it was mortalita out there, solid and brown (perico…!)
the old head caught a leg shot and hobbled around (you walkin’ around here)
these banana clips, homie, they the size of a gown (they long!)
ready to die ten toes down and lie on the ground (never, b, never!)
y’all ain’t doin’ what y’all rappin’ (never!)
it ain’t talkin’ here lil’ homie it’s all action (it’s all action!)
you ain’t poppin’ you ain’t realer (you ain’t realer!)
so let it go ahki ’cause time is the great healer (it is!)
perc dance i’m feelin’ a lil’ woozy (woahh woahh)
what type time you on this is a real uzi (brrrr!)
i started clippin’ the sh-t was a real movie (yeah)
my baba gave me game and sh-t was revealed through me (r.i.p. papa!)
[verse 2: ill bill]
my shooter named uzi his pops named him after it’s uzi
we on that demon time, pazuzu gave acid to lucy
we laid in groundwork, make the 4 pound twerk
have the nina stay loaded then blow her ’til her mouth hurt
i name my desert eagle, desorated? evil
celebrate and raise the people when my desi spray yo’ people
i’m a, cross between billy and new approved billy
used to chain smoke bogies like the chimney do really
used to see the slowest tooth thought it was cool
should’ve listened when uncle howie told me not ’til i’m a fool
most of the time i overstood what not to do
he thought he tried to school me and tell me that sh-t is not for you
had to learn my own lesson though a close friend of mine died
messin’ with blow laced with fentanyl addict then stretched to coke
seein’ them stretched out in the coffin left my mental broke
and i don’t wanna be the next to go

[verse 3: lord goat]
calibrated like mayan sacraments, we stuffin’ mattresses
’87 accords, no seats, controlled massacres
sharpshooters, henny blood shakes for pain management
strange demeo jeans all laughin’ holdin’ medallions with
across counties, i got fiends that look like morton downey
bodegas with artillery runs, up in the older audi
if yo’ head’s not bleedin’ you not shootin’ straight
luger aim to the im poomers? it’s just a putrid game
grenade launchers like the armed forces
judgin’ through the projects with sheep skin, realter than corpses
my depression leave you f-ckin’ nauseous
raviolis popped in my grimace when holdin’ a taurus
fatigue sh-lls in bags shippin’ from honduras
it’s like a hundred goons when i hit the booth
terry melcher in the grave he never sweat the truth
blood is big business, shots through your town coupe
the russian comin’ straight through you soundproof
turn your gown blue!
[outro:]
– have you’ve been hearin’ voices, tellin’ you to do things?
– i-i know-i know what the voice box is used for…
– can you tell me?
– hot and cold….
– what does that mean, i don’t understand
– the air conditioning, why my vocal chords were used straightforward
– do you sometimes feel as though you’re a robot?
– that is a jehovah’s witness, yes…

- vinnie paz

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