Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Gots Some Nonbelievers, artist - Esham. Album song Judgement Day, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.09.2008
Record label: Aknu Media
Song language: English
We Gots Some Nonbelievers |
Look up in the sky, |
It’s a crow! |
It’s a bat! |
No, it’s super nigger! |
Confused, some say I can’t lose, |
All a brotha ever hear is bad point of views, |
Try to hold me back jack, breaking the chain of pain, |
Cuz the rhythm be bumpin’like a migrane. |
Never knew I really had a clue about fiction or fact, |
But I got it like that. |
From dawn till dusk, you might see me bust, |
A brain or two, I make it entertainin’you. |
Commercial, universal, don’t matter, |
Every one dies when my shotgun scatters. |
When my heavy metal boot drops, the floor shakes, |
I’m comin’through like an earthquake. |
You can’t take or make or break me, |
Can’t shake me, don’t try to fake me. |
Many don’t believe, I will achieve, |
Like Ali Baba and the forty thieves. |
I’ma get mine, you must be out ya mind, |
Cuz in the ninties, acid rap is about time. |
We got some nonbelievers out there (2x) |
Buck wild, and out on my island, |
In your Alpine, I’m free stlyin'. |
But I’m wicket, I’m wicket, I’m wicket so why don’t you kick it? |
To feel the force of a new breed, you might bleed. |
Knockin’niggas out like forty thieves, |
Forty thieves in the tiempo, I go loco, |
Nine milimeter point blank or a solo. |
Devilish, but still hell of this, |
Make you wanna not want to go the week you go home. |
I’m mystified, I won’t lie, |
Some can’t handle it so they die. |
Boils and bubbles of trouble brewin’what you doing? |
Microphone massacre, MC’s screwin’around, |
I don’t waste time, for all the suckas, |
I’ll see you at the finish line. |
Kick that shit! |
From Lucifer, I give juice to ya, |
Been rockin’all my life so I’m used to ya. |
I got wanna be carbon copies that bite, |
Of pop rock suckas who dog the lime light. |
But now you’ve been a witness, |
The unholy strictly business. |
For all the fools who test me, don’t stress me, |
Or the cops will have to come and arrest me, |
For murder one, but I’ve just begun, |
Grab a mic cord 'round your neck and scream Red Rum, |
You’ll be headless like Max Headdrom, |
And I’m here to cause a little bedlam. |
Magical, still tragical. |
It all started out about a year ago. |
Many try to stop me, and drop me, |
Now they all wanna jock me. |
The radios won’t play me, |
It don’t faze me, |
I’m no sell out baby! |
And we still got some nonbelievers. |