Представляем точный текст композиции "Crown Of Thorns" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Reef The Lost Cauze . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Crown Of Thorns» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Reef The Lost Cauze передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.
Reef The Lost Cauze - "Crown Of Thorns"
Lyrics to Crown Of Thorns : [Speaking:] Its 2005 Im bout to blow some heads off, man I got so much shit bout to hit these dudes, man Feast (') classic, Juju Mob classic, yknow I mean' My team is comin, Good Hands [Verse 1:] Yo, I give it to you straight, never speak fakely Shareef T lace it, they say hes crazy Im only Lost Cauze when I got the .380 This is my costume, no moniker to make you eat daisies None needed, son weeded For some reason, on the mic I become some demon Other emcees eat they lungs even You think not' Come see em From the stage you will run fleein I need more cowbell, throw in your towels You make the crowd swell with bottles Thrown at you, Im the grave robber, throne snatcher Dont matter, I attack like throat cancer You cant rap, but yous a dope dancer A hype man, go adjust my mic stand I roll with ''', who love to make your life stop Youve been dismissed, go home and get your shine box [Chorus:] [Echo:] Its the Cauze, its the Cauze... [Scratch: KRS-One] Emcees act like they dont know [Scratch: 50 Cent] Im the underground king, and I aint been crowned [Scratch: Styles P] Motherfuckers hit your knees and just pray to the Lord [Verse 2:] No pimp cup, no gators (') No trucker hat, no blazer Im from the city that spawned Joe Frasier Bernard Hopkins, stay the fuck out of my zone, haters Now Im no Messiah, Im no savior But when the mics in my clutch theres no greater Its like a vato loco with no razor A black mans Kool Aid with no flavor ESPN with no Raiders Or the Lost Cauze out for sale with no takers That movie +Tron+ with no lasers An episode of +Oz+ with no rapers The X Games with no skaters You get the gist; my only exercise is sit and twist Im just as quick as Michael Vick Cuz Im getting blitzed like a three-four defense Wont be tackled in the Three Four Precinct [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Im the omen in rhyme form You soft as nylon I spit hot fire like Dilawn, Dilawn, Dilawn Mind gone from buds s big as pine cones The Lost Cauze is a motherfucking cyclone Get caught in my path, and I divide homes You dont want to die, homes I talk with my nine chrome Hes highly upset Rush the stage with pure rage if you deny me a set I aint playin, dog This is beast music, this is Reef music Treat your face like bongos, this the beat movement Daddy-yo the beat bruiser, leave your teeth looser Youll be foolish to not cop that +Feast+, stupid Cuz this a banger-banger, cock the thing and bang ya Danger, danger, one remains in the chamber Hot wire hanger, bash your face in Now go fuck yourself like masturbation The father of this bastard nation Im hard like chemistry and math equations Leave your face full of holes like the mask of Jason Im past the waitin, getting at these bastards hatin Im sicker than a faggot Hatian filling his veins with H hits My gun plastic like some fake tits (Nigga!) I dont make hits, I just crap classics that make you want to break shit you fake bitch! Bleh! Bleh! Bleh! Bleh! Bleh! [Talking] White Boy 1: Everybodys always talking about the legends, they talking about Biggie and Pac (White Boy 2: Yeah, fuck those two) and Pun and Big L No ones talking about the real legends (WB2: Hell yeah) The guys on top right now (WB2: Hell yeah) Im talking about the Sages (WB2: Sage' Sage is down with the Klan!) The Aesops, ''' Combustion right here, are you kidding me' [WB3:] (Old school rap is doo doo, dude, its garbage) Hes the next big thing, listen to him [WB3:] I need, like, beats that dont even sound like beats [WB1:] Yeah, exactly, they should be like 'ERr Err err err' [WB3:] Who wants to dance anymore anyways' [WB2:] Its the blacks [WB3:] Yo, yo, rip that shit Combustion [Combustion: Rapping] Yo, yo, yo, yo My rhyme style you cant even measure Cuz I flow like Helium (WB2: Mmm) at 40 times atmospheric pressure (WB2: Here he goes) Im super fluid nice, cant rap but I can almost write (WB2: Uh ha) Cant fight but I can almost bite Hate Bush cuz hes stealing my rights Actually I just like to gripe (WB2: West Hartford, what!) because my skin is white I hate my dad, see, cuz he dont like Paying for me to sit on my ass and smoke this pipe (WB2: Go John) Thats what I do because Im so bored Got this super silver haze weed that you cant afford (WB2: Connecticut!) And Im crazy fly like the Wright Brothers Nerd rapper of the yo, yo, yo man like Tom and Dicks mothers Might be ''' ugly, but Im 'Mister Lover Lover' [Black A&R:] Man, that shit is corny, man. Ok' Let me tell you somethin My artist Corleone Capone from Big Dog Entertainment (Barks) He gon eat yo shit... Ay, Corleone, tells these niggaz how the street, hood, yknowm sayin Rich, big time, killa crack niggaz do it [Corleone:] Yo, yo this young Corleone Capone a force of AKA Real Clinton yfeel what Im sayin' [Rapping:] Yo, I cop the coke, pop the toast Keep a bottle of Cris to pop and toast Cook the crack, cut the crack, I sell the crack I love the crack! Then I mix and I got crack, nigga Keep a gat thatll put it in your back, nigga Four shots youll be layin out flat, nigga, OH! Pop the top, drop the top Cop a grip, chop the block About to cop the block, the block is hot The block is a block that block the blocks, OH! Feel me'! I rock the rocks, that rock the rocks Then drop the drop, cop the shot, the pop... I got shots for tops, niggaz! [Talking: with A&R talking shit in the background] Young Corleone Capone a force of AKA Real Clinton, yknowm sayin' JFK Jr. of this rap shit, yknowm sayin' I got bricks comin out my ass, nigga, yknowm sayin' I sleep bricks, nigga, yknowm sayin' I got cocaine everywhere, nigga, yea! [ Crown Of Thorns Lyrics ]
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