Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Clint Eastwood, artist - Gorillaz. Album song G-Sides, in the genre ПопDate of issue: 27.02.2002
Record label: Parlophone
Song language: English
Clint Eastwood |
| «Yo. |
| Yo. |
| Yo.» |
| 'Cause I’m this, Gorillaz from the mist |
| lyricist and my thoughts be twisted. |
| I spit the wickedest rhymes from a time that’s never existed. |
| My futuristic linguistics turn fools into statistics |
| I’m a lyrical misfit with a sadistic characteristics |
| I perform murderous acts on my tracks with a single breath and if a boy wanfa |
| test, then I be stampin' upon his chest. |
| Done makin' a mess |
| not a man could conceive the weed I’m consumin' and I transform from my cartoon |
| pseudonym, turn to a human. |
| I spit words from my mouth that be turnin' you inside out and I tie knots in intestines just like I’m a boy scout that’s workin' 'em out |
| Now rearrangin' your whole skeletal structure then I find some nine inch nails |
| to perform some acupuncture |
| When I punch ya, I rupture all of your ribcage in a rage and I turn you into a cartoon too then erase the page |
| I take you back to the stone age with Barney and Fred Flintstone |
| Get Dino to take a machinos and then force you to live home |
| I’ma take off like a jet pack better get back, rather step back. |
| I’ma make the crowd react and nod they heads until they neck snap |
| Life can flip raps while riding a skateboard and doin' a tic-tac and leave your |
| head in a spin like staring at turn table skid mats. |
| I’m a concrete lion, big cat. |
| This is real talk, not big chat. |
| Did ya get that 'cause I ain’t no small timer. |
| I rhyme on big tracks. |
| Now feel the vibes I create. |
| This heavyweight, I’m about to detonate and |
| demonstrate how I generate lyrics that supernaturally levitate to the top. |
| My lyrics escalate, |
| Accelerate and leave you panickin', |
| Take the ground from beneath your feet, leave you Skywalk-in' like Anakin. |
| I’m sharper than the tips of Zulu spears and Olympic javelins. |
| My style is totally buck wild and most definitely happenin'. |
| To your brains I be tappin' in, to computers I be hackin' in. |
| To me, I be out of this world like aliens who were time travelin'. |
| I’m dabblin' in the Fists of Fury technique when I speak. |
| Forget Karate Kid and these wooden blocks, I chop from concrete. |
| Concrete, concrete, concrete! |
| Wha-wha-well-well-wha-well! |
| I’be been stoned; |
| ever since the days of creation, |
| I’ve been red. |
| I’m a mad dred, causin' so much havoc in Russel’s head. |
| My lyracism is just like an aneurysm inside his brain. |
| He plays the beat in a trance and he’s never feeling no pain. |
| I could never be a racist because I posess so many faces. |
| I’m one of those beat-up bad wit' bags and a pair of braces with lines longer |
| than laces. |
| I’m gracin' you with my presence. |
| The lyrics went flippin', makin' ya bubble like effervescence. |
| I pulverize and bamboozle, shake numb skulls like a boodle. |
| I smashed the top of your head with a guitar I borrowed from Noodle. |
| I’m as animated as Japanese animes causin' callamities. |
| Some serious savory from my roarous rhymes of reality. |
| At the speed of sound, I’m wanderin' around. |
| The clown done tried to defeat us without |
| tenacities or audacity. |
| Don’t you ever thought you could beat us. |
| Beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, |
| beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, |
| beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us… |