| Since I been peein' straight, striaght crime’s been my mindstate
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| Proud to be a petty thief ever since four feet
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| But I make dis records so rappers would have to advance
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| And stop wearin' the same corny watches and leather pants
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| Psych, I don’t give a fuck, rock your ice
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| Just don’t step out of line or you’ll get rocked by Dice
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| I toured around the world like Tina and Ike
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| Brought the house down in Sicily and Milan
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| Fucked all types of women like your sister and mom
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| Ask around your breakfast table, you’ll say «Raw's the bomb»
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| Slow down son, you can’t go one round with Dice, dude
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| I make clowns like you bow down like Ice Cube
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| Women, I make 'em feel like they gave birth to God
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| Grip 'em by their pigtails, make 'em slurp the rod
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| Catch a Mack-11 slug with a pair of chopsticks
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| Cut a priest off at the funeral to rock shit
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| Nigga I’m the real Raw, all y’all others be fakin'
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| Tryin' to gain fame off the name I’m makin'
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| Talkin' all that shit like you can get some
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| You just a sucka, you can’t get a fuckin' crumb
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| Man I’m the real Raw, all y’all others be fakin'
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| Tryin' to gain fame off the name I’m makin'
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| Talkin' all that shit like you can get some
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| You just a sucka, and can’t get a fuckin' crumb
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| I ain’t lettin' niggas rap no more without my approval or stamp
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| I’m drunk on power, I don’t feel the weed or the champ'
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| Voices like a million watts pumpin' out, goin' amped
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| Hit niggas bang pow to the moon like Ralph Kramp
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| Once I’m there, carve the moon into a pair of dice
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| Or put a star in a jelly jar and use it for a night light
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| Give it to my daughter, bomb your headquarters
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| It’s Dice, here I am rare despite all denial
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| Just raw ass lyrics, no self-proclaimed titles
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| Whip out what I’m concealin', then aim for survival
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| Seein' is believin', my fist is an eyeful
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| Dice is raw, there ain’t no mistakin'
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| Me against y’all is like Santa against Satan
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| When I say y’all, I mean y’all suckas that be rappin'
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| You’re soft like satin from hard skull crackin', aiyyo
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| So MCs that wanna battle, step up reluctantly
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| If Jesus could rap, He couldn’t fuck with me
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| (beat stops, thunder rolls, beeps and buzzes)
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| Yo, yo what the fuck is that? |
| Aiyyo, what happened to the beat?
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| What’s goin' on in there, man?
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| Hey Dice, man what the fuck are you in there doin', man?
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| The fuckin' board’s smokin'; |
| there’s all this type of fire and shit, man
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| I know your budget’s not gonna cover this shit, man
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| This session is shut down!
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| Dice! |
| You dare blasphemy against thy Lord?
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| I can do anything, even rhyme!
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| The builder and destroyer of all worlds
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| Creator of man, woman, girl
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| Some call Me Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah
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| I can start a beginnin', or endin', it’s over
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| On Earth’s first day alive there was darkness
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| Shape was worthless, I gave this small planet purpose
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| Breathed life into the surface
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| And created every beast in the sea
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| Feast eyes on the Son of God for thou souls to free
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| Since the Garden of Eden, I told men believe in
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| Thou Lord, and never worship falseships and act accord
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| But always, serpents slither across floors
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| Everything that is, always has been, always will be
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| A chill in your bones is how you feel me
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| At the end, when the moon turns blood and the sun blackens
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| Great men of the world running wonder what’s happenin'
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| The sky’ll part
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| And where I once said «Let there be light,» I’ll say «Let there be dark»
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| After the lamb’s spoken, last seal’s broken
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| Trumpets sound, last men on Earth found chokin'
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| For these events not to take place, you’re hopin'
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| Balls of energy fly from my hands explodin' |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Brain Softener , by - Dice Raw. Song from the album Reclaiming The Dead, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп