letra de music - wah-li
[chorus]
yeah we flow, how it goes, when we writing the songs
and you know, only dope, yeah nothing goes wrong
make a plan, every chance when they’re rocking the stands
every fan, make ’em dance till they’re clapping their hands
[verse 1]
slowly growing, holy flowing; only knowing i be blowing
shine is glowing mind controlling rhymes are blowing lines are showing
crowd is going. loud they’re roaring. proud, we’re rolling. grounds we’re mowing
hard we’re flowing, sparks are blowing, marks are showing at hearts we’re throwing
oh no! don’t know brothers when they just joke?
no, whoa. go slow. i’ll tell ya when they just broke
there’s a certain feeling when you’re writing down your music
coz it’s something to believe when you’re knowing how to use it
the respect that you’re receiving is just something there to prove it
so the words that i am speaking are just aimed to get you moving
[ha ha, eyo]
back again, i’m insane to speak the pain that teach your brain
back again, teach your brain to speak that pain and be insane
[chorus]
[verse 2]
eyo, this is for the children- sister, brother, cousin daughter
and the fans who pack the building. i’m the stuff the doctor ordered
your noise will fill gauge and so your thirst for purest water
writing rhymes on a page, ain’t only time i’ll cross the border
just give me the right spot, the gimmicks that i’ll drop
see me use one shot to prove that i’m hot
i know that’s its cliché, don’t repeat what i did say
i hope that i’ll get paid, i’ll be blessed on that great day
so let’s thank the producers, quit backing the losers who use us
coz our rap is the future, in fact we should we use it, improve it
get our tracks on computers, and racks with our units get moving
making cash while we do it, i’m glad we pursue it, let’s groom it
coz we conform to norms but we can’t form a norm
where a new form is born to just con-form what’s torn
i don’t see another reason [why] treason feeding all our people
eating. peace is what i’m seeking
demons leave us to our freedom. [ah]
[chorus]
[verse 3]
notepad in your hand
rehearsing your illest jams
with m-sses in stands
they’re screaming a frequent chant
amazement fills the air
so no time to just stand and stare
it’s all new as you standing there
so explode and expose your flair
this is all a dream of a kid trapped in his room
son, jumping on the bed, his mic is a wooden broom
imagines he’s a king like his idol up on the poster
driving around the city, in a car, with a fancy chauffeur
his concepts have depth
yes, a contest to test
yet a conquest by intellects
the bar raised and set
so quick kid just spit
and just bring hits they’ll dig so for each kid that slips; sleeps with slit wrists you’ll spit
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- letra de teal - prince tito
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