| One-two one-two in the place to be, yes indeed
|
| As we proceed to give you what you need
|
| Always smokin that 'dro weed, we have. |
| Dilated. |
| Peoples!
|
| Set to detonate
|
| Uh-huh, sharp
|
| Ha yes y’all
|
| Watch out
|
| What what uh Uh, uh Yeah, it’s goin down
|
| We got tension in suspense, theme in variation
|
| Train robbery panic, description of equation
|
| I’m after the gold, and after that the platinum
|
| You want what you don’t have so far neither one’s happened
|
| But I was told by my peeps play your cards right
|
| Spit hard, never look back, disregard hype
|
| That goes for bad reviews, good reviews (uh-huh)
|
| Any press, the news, I don’t watch the two, I watch for crews
|
| Triple Optic cockpit views
|
| Bird’s eye, catch the rhythm in the words I use
|
| I’ve learned to burn pain for fuel
|
| Everybody plays the fool sometimes, the other side of the game is cruel
|
| I’m back to school, the master rules
|
| Born in the church where the pastor rules (why?)
|
| I embrace the task that give birth to tools
|
| And keep the pressure on that turns earth to jewels
|
| Yeah, Dilated we’re correctly holdin the crown, it’s like THIS
|
| C’mon, yeah
|
| Dilated we’re correctly holdin the crown
|
| On tracks, it’s like boomerang
|
| Sometimes you gotta let shit go to watch it come back
|
| Evidence, presumed innocent
|
| Move in silence, tracks covered, no fingerprints
|
| Most are hit or miss, not what this is Type on tour that might, hit your misses
|
| Pack the bags, load up the pre-vo last year
|
| We hit the road with Rage, Guru and Primo
|
| Cypress, D’Angelo, shit’s Jurassic (hey!)
|
| Kweli and all top notch acts, keep it classic
|
| Bill Graham presents, Live at the Fillmore
|
| And after the encore, they ask for more
|
| Fuck the IRS, I roll with I-R-I-S
|
| 'Science the best, so don’t test
|
| Exotic, attack the wack a word of advice
|
| I got it down so cold like ice from Jew Heights
|
| Huh huh, yeah, Dilated we’re correctly holdin the crown
|
| Uhh. |
| yeah
|
| It’s that shit you pump loud when you roll into town
|
| Check your fusebox, my Cosmic Slop brings cops
|
| Ghetto hip-hop that your city block rocks
|
| Say WHAT? |
| I bust a U and come back (hey!)
|
| Reach under my seat for that heat that blaze tracks
|
| Face facts, you’re facin poker faced cats
|
| Dilated made our way through the maze, so take that!
|
| For boom bap rap brought some state of the art shit (hey!)
|
| After two L’s, I’m +Cool+ like James Todd Smith
|
| Made ya burn while the, tables turn
|
| I teach but I’m ready willin able to learn
|
| These cats tryin to eat, I’m just tryin to breathe
|
| And tryin to leave a legacy that you couldn’t believe
|
| Live from DND, peace to NY G’s
|
| Rakaa Cy Young on the M-I-C
|
| Babs is clockwork, you could set your wristwatch
|
| And the real backbone of hip-hop is disc jocks
|
| Huh, yeah yeah
|
| No doubt Dilated platform, expansion team!
|
| Uhh uhh, yo, Dilated, no doubt, worldwide connected
|
| Come down Mr. Selector |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Clockwork , by - Dilated Peoples. Song from the album Expansion Team, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп