Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dune Methane , by - Hieroglyphics. Song from the album 3rd Eye Vision, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 31.12.1997
Record label: Hiero Imperium
Song language: English
Dune Methane |
| Rappers sellin out for the money and fame |
| But I just keep on dune methane |
| Dee-dee-da-da-dee-dee-dane |
| I just keep on dune methane |
| They only know colonial ways |
| Anything that my homie okays |
| Is all right these days |
| Display recklessness, whose tek is this |
| Pointed in the window of ya coupe Lexuses |
| Follow me on my Exodus |
| My poetics will earn the respect of thus |
| An individual crushing hypocritical nothings |
| Like aluminum cans |
| Put me on the mic and I’m doomin em |
| Operation: MC Intimidation |
| Occupation: rock the place then leave relieved |
| The masta John, large like a mastodon |
| In charge of the class Cas is on |
| Some whole new shit than you bastards on |
| Bitten my old style while smash was gone |
| My infallible flows will swallow you hoes |
| Rappin bout cars and clothes you need to kill it |
| I’m voices in your subconscious, knots in your intestines |
| Crescent moon attack stance if you glance at the mic |
| I’m unlike all types |
| Can’t make the brain connections they need more gigabytes |
| I hit em twice… iced em, cold like liquid nitrogen |
| They need vitamins and ginseng |
| If you fencing with these you get stabbed in the heart |
| Me, I’m like the Highlander |
| Tapping the soul of my enemies, capturing their energies |
| Disappear from the stage like the vanisher |
| Grabbin the mic and drive a spike right through the center |
| For these niggas all sequenced up like the spinners |
| I get the crowd high like paint thinners |
| And watch weak crews, crackle and splinter |
| They can’t tackle the impenetrable sound |
| Sciences of Hieroglyphics even with assault rifles |
| And silencers, M-16s ain’t hitting nothing |
| When we corrupting rappers |
| Togetherness like alpha flight when we write |
| The unmistakable interaction in your ears, outta sight |
| Fightin in a circle, we workin the mic 2 deep |
| Pass that mothafucka so I can sink my teeth in |
| Center myself, then I walk through the flames |
| AKA The Mangler, feelin no pain |
| No stranger to the danger room I’m in-tune |
| Meditation, blood coursin through my veins |
| So the thoughts came interlaced with the taste of victory |
| I’m slippery, rippin these niggas apart |
| From start to finish… and it don’t stop (Keep on) |
| Put Toure on the mixer, smooth as an elixir plus |
| The meritorious flows of us |
| Get a glorious response you’re boring next to Jon |
| I’m the only individual not capable of having a prime-time |
| Can’t capture this rapper from this present day backwoods |
| To the depths of antiquity no one can get with me |
| I used to battle Socrates rockin these same styles |
| Inventor of math and science, holdin my style |
| Showin defiance to the gangsta jargon you barkin |
| Metaphysically sparkin in psyche when mic’s in my face |
| Compile salt-peter to blow up the place |
| A striver, I’m the MacGyver of the black race |
| The unforgettable prestigious speeches |
| Manifested by the northwestern regions |