Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Jambox, artist - E-dubble. Album song hip-hop is good, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.10.2009
Record label: Evan Wallace
Song language: English
Jambox |
Well- my- vocal chords are a bit strained from- singing soprano- AND |
Making it SKRAIN |
Scratch that, nix that that’s insane, I never go to strip clubs they’re too |
plain |
Boring like mormons, chillin' in the UTAH rather not pay a chick to like this |
goofball |
Rather find a lady, who likes her dudes tall, loves hip-hop and got back like |
Ru-Paul |
Not that one |
I’m talkin' bout the one from round my way, it’s spelled a lil' different but |
it sounds the same |
And you can talk shit but that would be ashame cuz' I could serve you up like |
ham and eggs |
Hollandaise and english muffin’s, ca ll you benedict arnold when you get to |
huffin' |
Cuz' you left your crew lookin' like some artic puffin’s, with their chests |
stuck out can’t speak or nothin' |
Enough of that dumb shit, I’m on my juice and gin, I got my cup and I just |
chipped in |
Tip a cup to the sky and toast my jambox |
Cuz' we all got an urge to get jammed up |
80's babies, join me in celebration |
No exclusions, excuses or genres to shun |
We’re inclusive, elusive but still remain one |
And I’mma do my damn best to make sure you have fun |
With a mic and beat we get hype on our feet |
Dance all you want fuck what’s gangster or chic |
I got a mean pop-lock and I love to perform |
Sweat out the details on the damm dance floor |
Cold blooded, low budget but we still get flooded |
Rail drinkers, non -thinkers but we seem star studded |
This life just ain’t enough so we keep on dreamin' |
My thoughts and my people are the things that I believe in |
No- god, no prob find me looking for a job |
Stop prayin' on the day when they called the lynch mob |
Huh' what you know about a dude from the burbs |
Put it down harder than your favorite hip-hop nerd |
Little friendly competition for the people that be wishin' |
For a battle emcee I freestyle in my kitchen |
And walt’s inn when the mics are free I might be |
Spittin' sixteen’s with mister salvador denali |
Straight wowin' foul shit apologize now |
For some shit I’ll say later cuz' I’m on the rebound |
So kid sister if you’re listening, dump A-Trak |
He’s too short for you and I’m the dude that you should smash |
It was the days of cassette tapes and SK-8's |
The casio keyboard with the sampler my faith was shaped |
Aethesist as shit, and when you get me in the booth |
Give me five good minutes convince ya' god is a fluke |
And sinners are cool, winners are too, but life’s alot more fun |
When sometimes you don’t follow the rules |
When you a lil' tike, fisher price, farting in the mic |
For a kick drum like, that «toot, toot’s» tight |
I been nice for minutes, but now I’m ready to kick it |
My shell’s been broken, look at those empty cans of spinach |
I’m popeye, you not fly and even if you were it wouldn’t matter |
You’re white noise, just another herb |
So many blurs in my vision they’re starting to seem artistic |
Colors mixing together, ink falling off of my shit list |
People starting to get it, words starting to spread it’s |
Miraculous apparently rap ain’t dead |
Gotta laugh when I hear that phrase uttered |
Cuz it’s utterly retarded to think hip-hop was dearly departed |
It merely didn’t show up on the Billboard charts in 2007 |
And to me, that was a blessing it gave these independent acts |
A chance to shine, and let these mainstream rappers start clothing lines |
Diversify, and hope to god that their ugly ass jeans hit bargain bins, |
nationwide |
And with that being said, respect, it’s all love, hip-hop finally fell off |
Now back to square one like- |