Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bass Reeves, artist - K Rino. Album song Then and Now (The 4-Piece #2), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.01.2019
Record label: Black Book International
Song language: English
Bass Reeves |
Yo yo yo, check this out, we got a special treat for y’all here at poetry night, |
this evening |
This next guy… is about a hundred and fifty something years old, |
he goes by the name of Bass Reeves, and he wants to spit a piece for y’all, |
tonight, check it out |
I wrote songs for days 'til my forearm wouldn’t raise |
So I tilted my head and let the words pour onto the page |
See you’re a man who stands with no signs of a chance |
To see me live, you gotta put me three lifetimes in advance |
I got plenty inside me that not many can copy |
When I start dropping, the planets stop spinnin' to watch me |
I track and catch thieves, I’m Bass Reeves |
I laugh when the trash emcees get mad and ask me to leave |
I slap most of your team and laugh at the remainder |
Put a gallon of liquid in a half gallon container |
You sit on a stool, listening to the young gettin' schooled |
I’m such a fool, I wrote down an unwritten rule |
Then his comprehension quickly underwent double admonishment |
I’m comin' with the confidence to put trouble on punishment |
When my anger is fed vein, drainage is red |
Had more flames in my head than dames in Wilt Chamberlain’s bed |
I stay ready to start fights like Fortnight, you barely can talk right |
My coldest writings gave a block of ice frostbite |
It’ll be a lot of lost life when I chop off mic tops and blow poisonous |
thoughts like an exhaust pipe |
You’re still wishing my skill slips, but don’t forget that I’m the guy that |
apparition kids visit on field trips |
I pack a hundred sheets to every new place |
But my pages are so sacred I carry each one in a separate suitcase |
I salivate to abrogate when in a battle state then travel to my laboratory base |
and calculate a atom’s weight |
Cubic zirconium couldn’t be phonier than these erroneous ceremonies only a fool |
would like |
So don’t be a tool to the truth-less 'cause I’ll show you what it produces, |
then bury you underneath a wave of ruthless acoustics |
You can feel me to prove it so future humans can view the footage |
My tongue be moving like the blade spool on a NutriBullet |
Facts are refutable, remains are not suitable |
A view after removing you from the musical crucible |
Section my in fool any for needed is protection, I’m flexin' |
So I said that line in the wrong direction |
Redeem your sight 'til you finally see the light |
My extreme workout routine at night is breaking up hyena fights |
I’m still a one man army |
My senses so strong, I could be sleeping, feel a strand of lint land on me |
Mics choke out in my hand from the clenchin' |
When I walk in my room to write, the pen stands at attention |
My folder is worse, thirstin' for a prolonged verse |
The empty pages fight each other to get wrote on first |
I’ve laid in a glass case since grade school, waiting for emcees to be placed |
in with me like mice used for snake food |
No wonder the thunder is dangerous comin' |
I invent words and make up new languages from 'em |
My titles are organized and compartmentalized, alphabetized so that they’re |
easily identified |
My creative inner drive and mental vibe is deep |
Not even oxygen’s allowed inside with me when I’m in need of privacy |
My hand is robotic so no matching my writing speed |
Hired a specialist to come out each night and rewire me |
I’m not even in your ride but sitting in the driver’s seat |
I write about unborn people’s lives in my diary |
Bass Reeves |
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Bass Reeves, give it up for Bass Reeves one time |
y’all, c’mon, y’all can do better than that, Bass Reeves everybody, yeah, ay, |
he don’t sound like K-Rino to y’all? |
Maybe it’s just me, whatever |