Testo Auto Bio - GZA
Testo della canzone Auto Bio (GZA), tratta dall'album Legend Of The Liquid Sword
I was born with the mic in my hand
Then I took it from Medina to the SI land
I pulled up on the block, got out the truck
It was the first of pit stops
The era of the spinning top, the birth of hip-hop
That was something I had identified with
So I made it my point to exploit this fly gift
And myself and RZA made trips to the BX
A mass of ferocious MCs, the town of T-Rex
Giants in every ways, rap flows for every day
We knew we would get a reward with a price to pay
The basic training was beyond entertaining
Just the cadence of the verbal expression self-explaining
Wore my boots out from constant walks across the borough
Tore the troops out the frame when they challenged the most thorough
From well-concealed firing positions we let off the most
Dangerous with that slang that just could shatter the coast
They say I rhyme like the bank is stopped
'Cause MCs be more shook than the dice just dropped
Especially if I'm rolling, then the point is definitely proven
'Cause with the gizza holding, that keep a nigga moving
I walk Broadway from Quincy to Myrtle
Back to Quincy, cut careers, whatever the expense be
They heard the legend, run to the reverend
But headaches and blackouts worse than 7-7
And when my job is done
Then it's time to give those that's coming up some runs
So you can see where they from
And since the product is good
We gonna swing it from the slums up the hills of the hood
'Til it's understood
We still search through the crates for songs that's just breaks
At times we play legendary battles on tapes
Unlikely confrontation with a clash of swords
Energy that was stored be raining, just poured
On cats and dogs, water that flooded the stands
The violence of nature had triggered the violence of man
That was bloodshed from what's said
Audible threats, publicized regrets, wanted it live or dead
A handful recovered from the dramatic plunge
While the rest kept babbling and speaking in tongues
Since the competition already slayed him in the scrimmage
He continued to tarnish that already faded image
In the sport when they come short, majors don't need 'em
Then they broke, lose they homes, livelihood and freedom
The rhyme could be a blunt object that make you choke
Like too many tokes that'll be taught to grow
This witty, unpredictable talent off natural gain
With non-additive slang that's off actual fact
The high roller knock the chip off your shoulder
Strike like the perfect bowler
The catastrophic damage from what was hard to manage
Punishment swift and sudden, unparalleled advantage
Brought to a level where you're froze and can't speak
Trapped in the frigid temperatures of that peak
And when my job is done
Then it's time to give those that's coming up some runs
So you can see where they from
And since the product is good
We gonna swing it from the slums up the hills of the hood
'Til it's understood
Credits
Writer(s): Gary E. Grice, Julian I. Garfield Jr.
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