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歌手:halo风格:歌词

Outchea-Halo

Now the next king of the country is the best known

of all of the African kings of that period.

He came to power in 1306. He was the kind of...show boy,

of ancient of medieval Africa called Mansa Musa

Bussin’ cool shit

I keep my head on a swivel, knees deep in the gristle

Empty pockets my issue I got a bread it official

Homie shoot me a missile emotions on hold

And save your tears for the tissue, only mama gon’ miss you

Lace up your Timbalands summer merge into fall

We makin’ winter plans time for servin’ them all

Scribe the verse on the wall empires certain to fall

Not till my grandkids grandkids kids have a ball

I encourage you all to doubt my purpose and call ‘em out

Nine tail fox Shinobi flow, the murda route

One who she heard about all by the word of mouth

Dance in the mirror for your king, twerk it out

Always a gentleman for the ones who are cinnamon

Menu at Bennigan's when I’m meetin’ your friends and ‘em

Reapin’ the benefit, slide through the tenement

Shake hands, kiss babies, you know the regiment

Salute to the Wu, yesterday and tomorrow

How many styles will you borrow from Masta Killa and HaLo?

Bright Lady the kitchen, Ka$h choppin’ and kickin’

They'll take it all away even the pots that I piss in

So I'm on top of the mission providin’ the plan

No Land Cruiser just a Hooptie when I’m cruisin’ the land

Young Zulu I stand upon the shoulders of Bam

Solid as a boulder get your camcorder, scram

We outchea

Bussin, yo

I keep my thoughts on pivot so deep that you dig it

Subterranean with it, if they got it, go get it

Five deep in the Civic, I talk it and live it

I never call back I hope your mama forgive it

Lace up your Timberlands, summer merge into fall

We makin’ winter plans time for servin’ them all

Verse on the wall empire certain to fall

Now till my, uh, not till my, yo

Beluga white whale, jacket lapel, she in Chanel

Word to Naheem and Pernell

Word weavin’ it’s like a spell

Aw hell, she bought the curls

Told her to twirl and she twerkin’ it, what a girl

What a girl, what a girl

I should drown her neck in pearls

She rule the world of this lyrical brainiac, matador maniac

Kick the real, no slack, I ain’t fuckin’ with none of that

I run laps round my blind poet tracks

That’s the truth, ain’t no lookin’ back

I post in the back roasted a sac of the potent potent pack

Til my eyes criss-crossed I’m the miggidy, miggidy mack

I sober up, providin’ a plan

No Land Cruiser just a hooptie when I’m cruisin’ the land

Young Zulu I stand upon the shoulders of Bam

Solid as a boulder get your camcorder, scram

We outchea

I maintain that every people who came into Africa,

Greeks, everything from modern day Englishmen,

everybody that came into Africa

did Africa more harm than good.

And that Africa owes nothing to outsiders in regard to development

because all of them declared war on African culture,

war on African civilization, war on African ways of life.

They began to bastardize Africa and confuse

and create a kind of historical schizophrenia

that Africans haven’t got rid of to this very day

and they created whole words

that did not previously exist

like Middle East middle from what?

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Shine

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What The Hell

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