Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Forevershine (Radio) , by - PackFM. Song from the album Forevershine - Single, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 03.04.2004
Record label: QN5
Song language: English
Forevershine (Radio) |
| Yeah! |
| PackFM! |
| It’s Qn5! |
| The Plague! |
| Kno, you laced it! |
| Oh! |
| I’ll shine («PackFM» scratched*) |
| Forever! |
| I’m back and it’s on, the man you always askin' em for |
| Now you relieved, like you was scratchin' your back wit a fork |
| We argue who’s gonna son you, like your parents divorce |
| I’m off the radar, you the cartoon in the back of the Source |
| «It's no fair, Pack’s a vet, I never battle before» |
| That’s no excuse, shut up, bitch — you just mad 'cuz you lost |
| Don’t ever sit in a room with your back to the door |
| You could get shot through the peephole, I seen it happen before |
| Ain’t nuthin' new to me, I school MCs |
| But they viewin me |
| They in the back of the class and their glasses is off |
| You the reason the underground is in the back of the store |
| My name on a CD means it’s dope before the plastic is off |
| I could’ve freestyled this verse, but I’m sick wit the written |
| You ain’t spittin', you grab the microphone, you hack and you cough |
| MC’s thinkin' that they GI’s wit fatigues instead of Levi’s |
| Who you kiddin? |
| Do you really think you lastin' a war? |
| I spit rhymes in the booth until my larynx hoarse |
| Grab the mic on stage till all my callouses sore |
| Hands cramped till I can’t peel the bandages off |
| Last man standin' till I can’t stand it no more |
| C’mon, you want war? |
| (I'll shine!) |
| If the tracks yours or it’s mine (I'll shine!) |
| Whether I got a deal or unsigned (I'll shine!) |
| As long as I stay on my grind (I'll shine!) |
| Whether it’s the Range or the train (I'll shine!) |
| Even if I don’t rock a chain (I'll shine!) |
| Qn5, E-Famm, and the Plague (I'll shine!) |
| I’mma stay on top of my game (Forever) |
| Ayo, we spread DNA, straight from the Plague, runnin' shit |
| Wanna battle for funds? |
| Your ones, you runnin' it |
| Punchline rapper that could also spit the gutter shit |
| You ain’t comin' out till 2009, your deal’s a punishment |
| Got a thousand bars, 15 minutes of fame |
| That’s like 2 cents to give, and 20 million to gain |
| And I ain’t done till I see you got a busted ear drum |
| Your neck’s numb, and a rewind symbol pressed inside your thumb |
| As a matter of fact, you could do the math on that |
| There’s women on my dick, and twins is goin half on a sack |
| Think you on my level, not yet |
| I blow spots, you bomb threat, you got floor seats, I got next |
| I smoke MCs you pothead |
| You leprechaun, I’m Loch Ness — I’m dot com, you dot net |
| I got on, you got vexed — I got it sewn up |
| You got the Y2K bug, you shoulda been blown up… |
| Alright, let’s make this official, I’m bad to the gristle |
| I’m reppin the Plizzle, can’t guess my initials |
| Fah shizzle, my nizzle, Won’t help if I diss you |
| Won’t nobody miss you |
| Like Kriss Kross and Chip Fu |
| It’s foul blow the whistle, may sting just a little |
| Yup! |
| I’m a small dude, but I fight like I’m 6'2″ |
| A mean individual, wit green by the fistful |
| My team take an L? |
| What you thinkin is wishful |
| You bark like a pitbull, but bite like a shizu |
| Breath smellin like my dick do, your girl must’ve kissed you |
| Hollow tip bullets versus nuclear missiles |
| How you gonna stop the Plague, when you can’t cure the sniffles? |
| Rhymes stored in the mental, no need for a pencil |
| Or Pen, when I write shit, the ink start to sizzle |
| Put your CD away, nobody want to hear your shit, dude |
| I get 50 a day, them niggas claim they could spit too |
| Demo — 70 minutes, only took 2 to skip thru |
| I got ebony women, by the pool in they swimsuit |
| Now you’ll never be winnin' |
| Diss my crew, it’ll piss you off |
| Little kid, be gone, this is bitchproof… |
| «Pack FM» — «I mastered this» (I'll shine) |