Testo Do It for the Kids - MF Grimm
Testo della canzone Do It for the Kids (MF Grimm), tratta dall'album Scars & Memories
Yo, put the kids to bed (c'mon, man, I'm here)
'Cause this rhyme is not for them
(C'mon, man, I'm here!)
I represent it for men
Tech Nite dreams and Mac 11 wishes and (c'mon, man, I'm here)
Ferreta's beaming on the target, making sure there are no misses
Your funeral you know who's blowing kisses at your widow
It sounds fucked up but your widow's doing it, oh, kiddo, kiddo
You and me and your death, she didn't dwell
You're living up in Heaven, but I know you're mad as hell
No one knows I killed you except you
(But we all know that dead men can't tell, shh)
Homicides in the dark, can't trace the bullet
Pick up the shell, doctor laid out your fuckin' head
Shakin' gates in Heaven because she's fucking me
Swingin' on God 'cause you need every key to get to me
Your spirit ain't shit to me, kids step to me
Your history goes, bust the ass, kickin' victory
When it comes to hardcore, I am the epitome of evil
So, don't pull stunts like Knievel, a brainstorm
(Do it for the kids, man, the kids)
I rhyme for niggas in the streets that's locked up, that's doin' beeps
(Do it for the kids, goddamn it)
I rhyme for brothers walking dead and for those who left the Planet
Violence in the belly of the beast won't cease
I packed the piece since Leeds was worn permanently greased
Far from weak, not too many better
Hardcore is colored black but that shines like packed leather
Food for thought, hush, eat my words, reads your mind
MCs engraved in grapes, I crush the wine
A deadly breed no fag and bad seeds
You'll never forget me, like the Jews will never forget Hitler's bad deeds
Brain cells are blown like a bike tire
Ignites escape the mental hell I'm runnin' through the verbal fire
I wonder if friends will see me at my best
But I lost a lot of friends of violent crimes in the process
My attitudes are mess, are like drama
Forget about my crimes, I smoke a lot of scammers
I have few things to live for but even more to die for
My niggas out the street is what I strive for
(Do it for the kids, man, the kids)
I rhyme for niggas in the streets that's locked up, that's doin' beeps
(Do it for the kids, goddamn it)
I rhyme for brothers walking dead and for those who left the Planet
(Do it for the kids, man, the kids)
I rhyme for niggas in the streets that's locked up, that's doin' beeps
(Do it for the kids, goddamn it)
I rhyme for brothers walking dead and for those who left the Planet
To die unheard, I won't grant it
Six feet under this Planet, unknown, I can't stand it
Platinum don't mean shit
When you've perpetrated someone else's life
And their life ain't legit
How're we livin'? We're livin' day by day
Ain't no tellin' on Earth how long you get to stay
Microphone friction with diction
And speakers called feedback
Throats bleed black when you attack
Or repeat heated words I speak
Weak beats, strong vocals, no question
The beats delete, Grim voices elite
Everyone loves a winner
But what happens when the winner meets defeat?
Nuclear thoughts boom (boom) radiation termination
Clouds and mushroom spells doom to all creation
Fuck World War I or World War II, see
'Cause rappers gotta deal with World War Me
And World War me equals World War III
We can rhyme either fight kids, so, what it's gonna be?
(Do it for the kids, man, the kids)
I rhyme for niggas in the streets that's locked up, that's doin' beeps
(Do it for the kids, goddamn it)
I rhyme for brothers walking dead and for those who left the planet
(Do it for the kids, man, the kids)
I rhyme for niggas in the streets that's locked up, that's doin' beeps
(Do it for the kids, goddamn it)
I rhyme for brothers walking dead and for those who left the planet
(Do it for the kids, man, the kids)
Uh, these two my niggas, puked
(Do it for the kids, goddamn it)
Just squeeze, some
(Come on, man!)
Sorry shorty, but you can't hear my album
'Cause it deals with stuff you shouldn't hear (c'mon!)
And life in the streets is what your mommy fears
(C'mon!) Streets in the past brought a lot of mommy tears (c'mon, man)
You know (one more, please), you know what I'm saying? Uh
To hear my album, you gotta ask your mommy first (c'mon, man)
But don't get mad if she says no 'cause in verses there's curses
I'll do a radio mix just for you
Still curse, but flipped in reverse (c'mon)
(And I'm off, shorty)
And I'm off, shorty
Uh, uh
(Come on, on more!) No! I said no!
(Come on, man!) No, shorty!
(Come on, man, one more!)
Come on, let's go watch Prince of Bel-Air or something
(One-one!) Nah, no, one nothing
(One-one!) One no!
(One-one) no
(One-one) no
(One-one) no, I said no
(I said yes) I said no
(I said yes)
Credits
Writer(s): Scott Richard Weiland, Duff Rose Mckagan, Saul Hudson, David G. Kushner, Matthew William Sorum
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