Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Pain (Instr.), artist - Bronze Nazareth. Album song The Pain (12"), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.12.2010
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
The Pain (Instr.) |
Yo, it’s the blade runner, face gunner, mace never* |
Cold case catcher, base stretcher, erase your face setter |
Yo, walk wit a blade, gray sunshine sun shade |
Walk guys are small fries, I’m pharaoh |
There it lies, focus the barrel, friend rule |
Food for head and chest, lay you to rest |
Even in O.T., I’m home team |
Three dogs, three guns, five fought |
Whoever want it, get smoked like blunted |
Peacefully put, get pulled like ruts or roots |
Always in case for the loot |
Compound your bloody compute, wisely maintain |
Mandible Max Payne, the gang, your whole gang’s in flames |
Entice my foes, spit your flows |
After the laughter comes the ears |
I compesated more beers than MC’s careers |
Hip hop cheers, blood, sweat, real niggas rep your set |
Red hoes in my bow, keeps the cold |
Bull run calm and ain’t it |
The FL we made it, brown speech |
Ultimate proportions, was enormous |
Wordplay, gorgeous george shit |
Driver that got award shit |
Bleed bloodclots more hits |
Yo, we come through like sperm behind the diaphragm |
Scratch the surface of the cervix, form iron hands |
And accordion low, black they capo |
Saxophone higher blade for saxon-anglo |
My wife growing bangles, threats in the mail |
They discovered DNA fragments to mark my trail |
Elusively hunt, then dungeon punging |
A roamer of believements, through digital sequence |
See this gleem in his eye, soon they hold the truth |
When the glare disppear, slash anything that move |
Microphone dudes, coolers disfuse like osmosis |
Slap mother nature, for fusing as the focus |
Poisonous windrafts, gas you off the path |
Head in concrete crash like rocks in river raft |
I spell the math, engraved in sculpture |
Pricked and accupuncture, from the claws of an vulture |
Violent altar, wave sound pound the ground |
Infuriated fists, crack the streets in your town |
Violent backlash, contained on phonograph |
So full of wrath, they mix equilibrium crash |
Ninja mass welded from elephant horn |
Fighting electric wolves with vocal extension cords |
Apprehension, propeltial inmate to bars |
Aloy still measure from the mind that lift cars |
Release your album, you fucking with ours |
And that’s mine, niggas get they lives summarized |
Like your favorite long summertime, shine of a gunning night |
Boy run your mic |