Testo Symphony - Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock
Testo della canzone Symphony (Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock), tratta dall'album Break of Dawn
Yeah, live for 1994, kickin down the doors
Sendin all the competition on tours
Youknowmsayin? We got the Funky Bass Productions
Youknowmsayin? Breakin you down to every last compound
Let's see how this sounds
Check it out
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
Tom Gotti, E-Ski, grab the mic and just spark it
L, check the style, make you wonder
T to the O-M, straight from the under-
Ground with the sound, don't make a frown
'Cause you ain't did nothin but get caught with your pants down
I'm comin through with the one-two, check ya
Microphone check ya, then I direct ya
To this dope style, crew in the front aisle
Pumpin like a poser, how ya like me now?
Well check it, I get energized like the Enterprise
Dip I dip I dive, keep my eyes upon a cutie pie's thighs
E-Style, freestyle, I be certified dope
I disconnect that intellect, keep your monkey ass in a yoke
I grab a mic to get the hoochies on the floor
Rollin hoochies, baggin hoochies, check me on tour
The basket case, I spit a lyric in your face
Leave you bloody on the stage, and I'm gone without a trace
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
Kaneo, Cal-Style, grab the mic and just spark it
Now that my service on this verse right here is for my homies
No love for them tricks actin like they didn't know me
Kaneo is a nigga you'll wanna bounce with
I'm rollin with the Funky Bass, askin niggas what you want, kid
I like to kick the funky shit that make you wonder why
Niggas from the hood slangin things, wanna live and die
I be a hardcore slinger with the rhymes I kick
Kung Fu crews just like a Bruce Lee flick
Hi-ya, I gots to kick it, don't make me wicked
With the fat ones on your side, you couldn't put it in 'em, stick it
I'm swift, so watch me cut ya, I'll put your head out
The rhymes I kick is like a tank spittin lead out
If you ain't never been inside the mind of a mad man
Then don't go near, you can't breathe the air
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
Yo Rob, you don't went hardcore?
Hey yo man back up kid, you know my steelo (what?)
I get busy like a bee when I'm makin my money
If I don't get my money, ain't a damn thing funny
I spark like a gunshot, I get hot
I make knots, some say I even wreck spots
I bake MC's, but I don't bake cookies
I'm not a Sarah like Lee, but I'm far from a rookie
Yeah, now you see me, now you don't
First you say you will, and then you won't
I gotta catch wreck 'til I reach the top
So if you think you're testin me, then stop
Because I sway like the ocean, stalkin cat motions
Injectin to the fame like a milky rap potion
I let my funk linger in the air
And if I catch the ill street blues you're gonna need intensive care
Who do you know that can do what I do?
With my funky rap shit that swings like voodoo
Yeah, you can move at speed of light but you can't touch me
My flavor is butter, hush hush G
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
We got a rock to get nuts up in our pockets
Credits
Writer(s): Serge Sares Prokofiev
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