Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Aural Fixation , by - Afu-Ra. Song from the album Life Force Radio, in the genre ПопRelease date: 20.05.2002
Record label: Koch, Motor
Song language: English
Aural Fixation |
| The Human Orchestra |
| Straight come to a revolution, right here |
| Uh-huh-huh, uh-uh. |
| Who got the sound you like, with the sound that’s right |
| Quick to say what, say what you like |
| That’s right, I’m turning around again |
| Cuz when I stop the flow, yo, you couldn’t breathe |
| Choose any one of my styles, and my foul supportin' off of you |
| I fell ten stories, with the venacular |
| Life Force, flowin' off the Human Orchestra |
| My structure, could puncture, lyrical monster |
| Find that ass layin' in a dumpster |
| Obi-Wan, he couldn’t show me how to master |
| Mindtricks, I show Kasuki, eatin' sushi |
| Spittin' loogies, gettin' groovy, watchin' a movie |
| Spirit choose me, to excersize my exorcist |
| Spine tinglin', minglin', phantom linguist |
| Disappear, reappear, I’m smooth as cashmere |
| In light years, and travel through the stratosphere |
| So here I go, here I go, equip with the high pro glow |
| No one knows the sickening flows, for wicked foes |
| I kicks it yo… from MIDI to SMPTE, I run on, look at your bloody nose |
| Gettin' you tipsy, like ten shots of whiskey |
| Rotisserie, three sixty, til you crispy |
| I toss it flow by flow, just like a frisbee |
| I’m gettin' busy, you gettin' dizzy |
| Gillespie, seizure’s like epilepsie |
| Homes, I’m layin' my hat, just like a gipsy |
| I bless me, let’s see, if you can test me |
| By what speed perky, like itty bitty titty commitee |
| Honey, no bra’s in the vicinity |
| And I ain’t tellin' no fibs, like whatever kid |
| You see the look in my eyes, you think I did a bid |
| Me on the track -- is like asexual |
| Reproduction, something from nothing |
| Eyes prayin' off like a falcon, boy, yea |
| Don’t make me have to get the scalp and boy |
| Bring food for the malnorished, ready to publish |
| Cuz half of the top emcees, is spittin' rubbish |
| I’m on a mission kid, like a 85th track head |
| Fiended out in a route, that’s never talked about |
| There I go, there I go, hallucinagetic rhyme control |
| Rock ballads like I was Solid Gold |
| Who on a roll, gang control |
| Surfin' the globe, out of control |
| Ripped her up, until your toes curl |
| I get down and wordy, you heard thee |
| You know it’s scrapped up, dirty, like she don’t use toilet paper |
| Small enough to fit through a key hole |
| And run up on that ass for them rhymes you stole |
| Slit ya wrist, like a tongue twist |
| Say no massa kiss, sackin' for hits and percents |
| The infinite, holdin' your breath, it’s tryin' to come quick |
| Spinnin' verse, dispersin' rapidly |
| Half hazardly, ten shots, where all the bastards be |
| Go get the suburbans and the hurses |
| Whether I’m here or gone, I travel through these verses |