Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Movement Part III, artist - Qusai
Date of issue: 25.06.2012
Song language: English
The Movement Part III |
This is a MindCircus Production |
From the KSA, I bring to you |
Kamelion, Anas Arabi, Majic, Kaffien, Vizion, Moh Flow, Tim Granite, P.O.E.T |
The movement part three |
You suckers! |
Yo! |
It’s the mo-ve-me-nt |
Jeddah city committee |
We getting gritty, no pity |
Militia, lock and load, Glock the mode |
And cock back, block your clock, and hit the road |
I’m in it to win it but I’m already a winner |
My people made me the one 'cause I was the beginner |
I move souls, move units, move messages to generations |
You don’t wanna know what the damage is, uhh |
Next up on the mic, The Junxion |
Anas show 'em how we run things, man (right) |
Wanted movement so I’m patriotic on the beat |
Wanted immunity so I’m bionic through the street |
As we proceed to feed the fiend in the scene |
Keep the herb from the green, words from the gut and spleen |
It’s a fight, dream without a type |
Sleep, it’s a lice nest if you scratch heads with no deep thoughts and texts |
Life is a mess if you got nothing to rest to |
Real to pretend, king’s deep, slow ahead |
Eyes closed, now eject, bye |
Run J-City, dumb, dumb diddy |
Edison your entity |
Majic, tell 'em what’s the dealy |
The movement’s never been orgasmic, fresher than plastic |
Like you’re from a casket |
And if you moving, leave 'em both, scratch it |
A crazed devil with a box of matches |
Taking measures drastic |
'Cause I’m moving towards my ashes |
Running with me, getting action |
Fronting to be, now we’re conscient |
'Cause I’m driven just like a magnet |
Spitting the rounds, drop to the ground |
First to the pound, and then we bagging |
'Cause we keeping this game slow |
Asking for mo', we give 'em a show |
Asking for a rise, we give 'em a blow |
Loving the flame, the fire of the stove |
Next player up, Kaffien with that criminal style |
Yo, activate |
Dis the movement we moving |
Flow, screws in, so amusing, so confusing |
Hopping down the block with four inch woks |
Collecting drops, feeding cops with slugs and shots |
Call of duty, higher man mobs |
The figure five with the furious slops |
The seven eye skies, immortal, not afraid to die |
Revelation type of lifestyle |
Buck wild, infamous child |
A year of the rebirth of Armageddon |
Right now, who’s next? |
Vizion! |
I blazed the booth |
Raised the truth, roof youths with it (So high) |
Did they lose you with the fake slamming news you get? |
Tryna confuse you with it, but you got bigger shoes to fit (Tryin' hard) |
Or be a war controlled slave when the noose’s lit |
The movement don’t move with a loose wit, the fruitless |
Mind games you’re pushing on us it’s useless |
No excuses for the ruthless that you is |
Check the way we shoot this, and groove to this blueprint |
Since we chasing more dough |
I got my man on the mic, it’s Moh Flow |
It’s Moh Flow, wanna move, never stop banging |
Oh no! |
You seen the news, boy, stop changing |
It’s like the whole globe full of six built strangers |
I don’t understand, we don’t speak the same language |
I don’t really see what’s the reason for this anger |
I mean, y’all strickened, so am I, so handle |
What you got in your plate, sitting in your mansion |
It’s raps y’all hear, I spit 'em with a passion |
The hunger for mine got me crashing the scene, I’m asking |
Where Tim Granite at with that panic attack? |
Qusai came along |
And ran with Junxion in the marathon |
Moh Flow passed the baton |
And now we running the decathlon, the battle song |
My Anas Arabi soldiers on the horses with no saddles on |
I got my Majic armor on |
Check our Vizion, 'cause now you Run or getting batted on |
Pop Kaffien 'cause y’all ain’t lasting long |
Up the MindCircus (shhhh) creek |
And shoulda paddled on |
Pass to POET |
I’m sorry if I rattled on |
Tim Granite’s out like the criminal you ratted on |
Yo, in my position to bring your ass fulfilment |
Pen wars with myself |
None of it was crifted, shifted, metaphored |
Myself needs encryption, demented dimension |
Paper extended, care unit, intensive |
My tongue is offensive |
Dammit, call it divine intervention |
Cracker jack’ll crack a jack if our spits are wack |
Forget affiliation |
We are one movement on the track |