Текст (слова) песни: Gang Starr - Blowin` Up The Spot

 
[Guru] 
Ah so now ya got me pissed off, blast off lift off 
Time for me to twist off a vocal fist off 
into your domepiece, Homepeace, I heard your chick wants to bone me 
I get, wild like rugby, respected like Bugsy 
Don`t even ask me, cause I`m livin lovely 
Born to succeed, foes bleed, true indeed 
The oral combat will romp that, your one of my seeds 
when I first, busted on the scene 
Nigga, you knew I had more than a gangsta lean 
I mean my lean is gangsta though so check it 
I`ll stick an MC for his spot and sign in blood on his wack record 
Boo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin ya 
Clown ya, dumbfound ya, while I`m screwin the 
fuck out cha girl as she steps into my world 
I`m not the tallest, but that ass I`ll polish 
And if the hooker runs her mouth she gets cut off 
But then you`ll sweat her, cause like my leather you`re butter soft 
Your style stinks kid, ya garbage 
And if you keep talkin shit, I`ma make ya pay homage 
Cause the G to the U to the R-U, came too far to 
let you slide through, rhymes will scar you 
And who the fuck are you anyway? 
I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten days 
Throw the cash in the pot 
You betta dash nigga, cause I`m blowin up the spot 
 
"I`m bout to blow the fuck up" 
* Premier scratches * 
 
[Guru] 
No ex-capin the explosion, those who are dozin, I close in 
Set the thermostat at sub-zero, they`re frozen 
Extreme temperatures from my mic, stuns amateurs 
Unable to conquer the Gang, I ain`t mad at cha 
Peace to Jeru, the Big Shug and the Group Home 
Keepin it real, no playin niggaz or chrome 
I`m way past the kid shit, brothers already did shit 
You want some props? Yo dog, here`s a biscuit 
I`m a smooth nigga and my groove`s bigga, move nigga 
And we don`t care who`s wit cha, got the picture? 
And you don`t wanna hear the burners go pop 
Gang Starr motherfucker, what, blowin up the spot 
 
"I`m bout to blow the fuck up" 
* Premier scratches * 
 
[Guru] 
I go from one format then switch to the next 
Reflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projects 
Crazy shouts are heard all around 
Cause the GangStarr sound carries more weight per pound 
I got some brand new Timbs, so emcees sing new hymns 
You betta repent, come correct, represent 
or get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled back 
I got you open, and now you cling to my sac 
Get off, hands off, stay off, you`re way off 
You rookie motherfuckers it`s the finals not the playoffs 
I`ll break you up into particles, to small pieces 
Because your brain is miniscule 
You little fool, come learn the tools of the trade 
I made the rules so go to school and get played 
Just when you`re thinkin that your jam is hot 
Up steps the niggaz who be blowin up the spot
 

Другие песни Gang Starr :

Blowin` Up The Spot