Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cyborg Control, artist - Man or Astro-Man?. Album song Experiment Zero, in the genre Альтернатива
Date of issue: 15.04.1996
Record label: Touch and Go
Song language: English
Cyborg Control |
I’mma do it like this, I’mma do it like that |
I’mma do it like this, I’mma do it like that |
I’mma do it like this, I’mma do it like that |
I’mma do it like this, I’mma do it like that |
9th Wonder on the track, fact |
Chilling up in the house on my Cordoroy Couch |
Mama, papa went out, free crib, what it’s about |
In the heart of Bedstuy, just imagine the feeling |
Art all over my wall, keep hearing closer to the ceiling |
TV stuff on the TV, The Wayans Brothers on repeat |
Or Jamie Foxx on Centric, always catch my attention |
Stepping outside of my room, on my way to the kitchen |
Ain’t eat nothing since morning, now my stomach is twitching |
Ate it back in my room, finding something to rock |
Sneaking out to the hangout, mom don’t condone the block |
Stepping outside the door, gotta stop by the store |
The Koreans is mad, African buyers galore |
Hold up, there go the bus, can’t wait another second |
It’s too hot to be patient, pay for my snack and I’m jetting |
On my way to the bush bumping my music loud |
A dude interrupts my jam, tells me about his style |
Then he hands me a card, I’m mean mugging him hard |
He made me stop my song right on my favorite part |
Finally off the bus, walking slow up the ave |
Delli’s and golden crust, Jamaicans dollar (?) |
Stop and get me some peaches, then I head to LeBron’s |
Homie open the door, say what’s up to his moms |
Put my bag on the floor, then we compose a beat |
After like 30 minutes go see what’s up in the street |
There go (?) started up a game of tabs |
T-A-P to my zip, y’all know that ranger wack |
Like an hour get passed, then we starting to get hungry |
Back in LeBron crib, he usually got the munchies |
Everything going good until my mama call |
Say she on the way home and ask what I want from the store |
I say nothing, she hang up, then I’m grabbing my stuff |
Ain’t even said goodbye, heading straight for the bus |
I snuck up outta the house, and my mama Jamaican |
The bus still ain’t arrived, ain’t no time to be waiting |
So I run to the crib, put my key in the door |
Then I look to the sky and pray she ain’t get here before |
Started turning the knob, seems like the coast was clear |
Looking in the living room, there was nobody there |
Then I go to my room and now I’m tripping out |
My mama sitting with a belt on my cordoroy couch |