Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hip hop, artist - Afu-Ra. Date of issue: 07.08.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Hip hop |
| Y’all want some hip hop, then holler HELL YEAH |
| Y’all want some hip hop, then scream HELL YEAH |
| Feel this hip hop, and yell HELL YEAH |
| Y’all know we 'bout to bring it here, fake cats get up outta here |
| See whatcha like gimme the mic |
| I’m rippin and flippin and grippin it tight |
| Say whatcha like, don’t play with me right? |
| I ride your chain from day to night |
| Head first with a verse |
| You see my excerpts got eskimos in igloos sweatin and seek in search |
| In self-worth, through the knowledge that all age enter the earth |
| Till the devils and his dogs I fool I’ll be the fuckin curse |
| Spit fire more fire with my nigga Fire |
| I backflip blindfolded on a highwire |
| Then fall back on my team and dream of lividcism |
| I met Noah before the ark and started rhymin with him |
| If I wanted to flow with him reactin like a cataclysm |
| And shockwavin my rights into the system |
| Now set trippin and sweatin the aesthetics |
| The chick’s beef hits your ass up like diabetics |
| I bet it gets, I wrestle it, second album be the predicate |
| No mismatches, no maxin or relaxin |
| Toast with the awesome two, break it like your fractions |
| Peep the equation, these Pythagorean thereom |
| I know the science for the metals and all the plenums |
| Until you hate it, young children have been mutilated |
| It looks good and some of y’all be desecratin |
| Incineratin wastin your state in the outer space |
| It’s wicked right I hit it right slice doors with a butter knife |
| I’m makin moves on the mic like I was dice |
| Y’all want some hip hop, then holler HELL YEAH |
| Y’all want some hip hop, then scream HELL YEAH |
| Feel this hip hop, and yell HELL YEAH |
| Y’all know we 'bout to bring it here, we transcend we outta here |
| Tippin you off bringin it forth, knowledge be the jump-off |
| Wax on wax off, liquid form-I turn to hot sauce |
| While some may want they salad tossed I can bust like Matatov |
| Now get your saddle off, quit bustin, no towelin off |
| Some pip squeaks in the game night ride like Hasslehoff |
| Stand back to your skin and feel my G-force |
| Tic tac toein I keep it flowin and flowin |
| No need for detonators my shit be mind blowin |
| Blind the sights likes of Ihmotep |
| Flippin the script ring the alarm like Ghengis Khan |
| Who rocks all takes all kick it like Win Chaw |
| Or ping pong crackin the mic, the dreaded King Kong |
| Y’all want some hip hop, then holler HELL YEAH |
| Y’all want some hip hop, then scream HELL YEAH |
| Feel this hip hop, and yell HELL YEAH |
| Y’all know we 'bout to bring it here, we transcend we outta here |