Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Meiso, artist - DJ Krush. Album song Meiso, in the genre Date of issue: 31.12.1994
Record label: Sony Music Entertainment (Japan)
Song language: English
Meiso |
| Yin for Yang, I walk on a line |
| Between ghetto slang and stimulation of the mind |
| Life is a labyrinth of dollars and cents |
| As I quest for cream, through the steam so dense |
| From the sensimilla I puff 'cause the tunnel is tough |
| Some lick shots with sound, some’ll bust from the cannon |
| Experts original man’ll examine |
| I am in fact lackin' confusion, as to what’s real and what’s illusion |
| I come from Illadelph where ya health, you never take for granted |
| As hot as the equator in a cypher 'round the planet |
| Or abnormal, niggas appearin' out of portals |
| And demandin' your soul, who controls The Eight Immortals? |
| But the number 7, in this continual maze |
| Where nights fight with days |
| Within my mind marijuan' blaze |
| And some say I should change my ways |
| But it’s hard to hear the phrase through the havoc and haze |
| Thought’s style of lyricism’ll never cease to accele-rate |
| It’s the great lab dweller |
| The mentals of The Roots are beyond any computer |
| The judge prosecutor or the drug distributor |
| Respect to the ex-Lex Luger, my nigga Malik B the intruder |
| Phila 5th Dynasty’s the future, and DJ Krush is the producer |
| You’re dealin' with the ginseng Roots, we get ya renaissance looser |
| Remember me, the Thought, I represent essentially and mentally |
| Eventually, you’ll mention me as most high |
| My decibels are most fly |
| I’ve come to paint ya Thoughts Black, yo, Krush, where’s it at? |
| The Roots bring it from the Phila 5th, spill the gift |
| The melody of a felony is straight off a cliff |
| Now, can I get a witness to dismiss Christmas from the myth list? |
| Man, that’s bogus, let’s try to stay focused |
| You would think it was the 4th of July |
| 'Cause in Illadelph, a round of applause light up the sky |
| Why? |
| Don’t ask me, subtle attitudes sometimes nasty |
| Foul-mouth bitches walk around, lookin' trashy |
| Bimbos talkin' about, «Where's the indo?» |
| Crackheads leavin' babies unattended at the window |
| To see death, and brothers with strikes who got 3 left |
| I’m tryin' to make it, 'cause if I don’t, I’ll probably take it |
| But perseverance is a virtue |
| The person that you think you hurtin' might hurt you |
| Your celly might jerk, too |
| Perhaps I’ll go to court this time when I’m summoned |
| But I’m a rebel to the system, so I might not be comin' |
| So, if I fail, man, just give out the bail |
| It’s just more time to write another story to tell |
| Ill elements drop intelligence |
| Black Thought, Malik B fuck up they irrelevance |
| We got strain on the brain from bodies left in the dust |
| Man, just leave it to us, look mane, you aim and I’ll bust |
| Fuck betrayal, just trust, over tracks we lust |
| With DJ Krush from Japan, so no more need to discuss |