Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Centre Of The Storm , by - Roni Size. Song from the album In The Mode, in the genre ПопRelease date: 31.12.1999
Record label: Mercury
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Centre Of The Storm , by - Roni Size. Song from the album In The Mode, in the genre ПопCentre Of The Storm |
| Bless, this vision I sketch a war cry can’t rest |
| Across frequencies east and west style |
| Raw adrenaline, let’s tap the vein main line resistance, meditate maintain |
| Raw to settle, the matter the cops scattered, our blood |
| Lost so matter of fact no love lost |
| See me cock the steely |
| Lock on Mussolini’s ill logic on the minds of the flock |
| No line divides, violence and reason sold |
| This killing season is freezing souls, zero degrees and cold |
| There’s 41 reasons to blast back |
| No one, followed Diallo to the grave. |
| fade to black |
| While all my city is heavy |
| I drop elephant shit smeared the face of the |
| Fascist priest’s pulpit |
| So to the mayor may I, say I, endorse the wholesale murder of your force of |
| course |
| Cause peace is a myth in New York |
| Burning white rocks got caught |
| Don’t choke, if ya smell smoke, (what?) |
| I dip my tongue in gunpowder and then I clear my throat |
| The Aggravator, true shit spitter Mobb like Goodie |
| While my hoody hides my eyes |
| The critics rush me like |
| Salman Rushdie as I |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm |
| I toss pieces of my syllables like salt by a sumo |
| Call me Akibono Akazuna, numero uno |
| Puro Mejicano my angle is I dangle styles for |
| The flock to follow |
| Too deep for the shallow |
| Superstitious niggas that get played like a tarot |
| Bass lines rattle and will shatter your bone marrow |
| Blind and can’t see me, believe me Stevie |
| No need to Wonder how, Monche became the Pharaoh |
| Tongue acrobatter, none |
| Phatter, never narrow I Shot The Sheriff and |
| Baretta and the sparrow got the Gift like Gab |
| Rip your rib cage hollow funk the flame into your brain |
| Matter with the sharpest arrows |
| The Aggravator, true shit spitter |
| Mobb like Goodie while my hoody hides my eyes |
| The critics rush me like |
| Salman Rushdie as I |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm |
| Bless the track, bless the track, (what? what? what?) |
| Bless the track, bless the track, (what? what? what?) |
| From my mental sparks fly, why is do or die |
| 5−0 got automatics, so why can’t i? |
| Fly by fast like an assassin mashin' |
| Soon we’ll see the beast reach for the sky |
| But for now I keep my mind sharp |
| We’ll be them bang this track in the park after dark |
| Lips do flips never kicked fiction |
| 2000 class summon now face the Guns of Brixton |
| Break to face them, never check reality |
| On it with Roni we devastate the scenery |
| Aggravator, true shit spitter |
| Mobb like Goodie while my hoody hides my eyes |
| The critics rush me like |
| Salman Rushdie as I |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm |
| Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm |
| Enter the center of the storm |
| Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm |
| Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm |
| Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm |
| Our jurisdiction the world |
| Our jurisdiction the world |
| Our jurisdiction the world |
| Our jurisdiction the world |
| Bless, this vision I sketch a war cry can’t rest |
| Across frequencies east and west style |
| Raw adrenaline, let’s tap the vein |
| Main line resistance, meditate maintain |
| Raw to settle, the matter the cops scattered, our blood |
| Lost so matter of fact no love lost |
| See me cock the steely lock on Mussolini’s ill logic |
| On the minds of the flock no line divides, violence and |
| Reason sold this killing season is freezing |
| Souls, zero degrees and cold |
| There’s 41 reasons to blast back |
| No one, followed Diallo to the grave. |
| fade to black |
| While all my city is heavy I drop elephant shit |
| Smeared the face of the fascist priest’s pulpit |
| So the mayor, may I, say I endorse the wholesale |
| Murder of your force of course |
| Cause peace is a myth in New York |
| Burning white rocks got caught |
| Don’t choke, if ya just smell smoke, (what?) |
| I dip my tongue in gunpowder and then I clear my throat |
| The Aggravator, true shit spitter |
| Mobb like Goodie while my hoody hides my eyes |
| The critics rush me like, Salman Rushdie |
| As I |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm with Size |
| Enter the center of the storm |
| Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm |
| Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm |
| Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm, Storm |
| Name | Year |
|---|---|
| Dirty Beats ft. Roni Size | 1999 |
| Brown Paper Bag ft. Reprazent | 1997 |
| It's a Jazz Thing | 2007 |
| Lucky Pressure ft. Reprazent | 1999 |
| Deep ft. Hollie G, TC, Roni Size | 2007 |
| Railing ft. Roni Size | 1997 |
| Brown Paper Bag ft. Reprazent | 1997 |
| Heroes ft. Reprazent | 1997 |
| System Check ft. Roni Size | 1999 |
| Lucky Pressure ft. Reprazent | 1999 |
| Railing ft. Roni Size | 1997 |
| Heroes ft. Reprazent | 1997 |
| Who Told You ft. Reprazent | 1999 |
| System Check ft. Roni Size | 1999 |
| Share The Fall ft. Roni Size | 1997 |
| Destination ft. Roni Size | 1997 |
| Who Told You ft. Reprazent | 1999 |
| Ghetto Celebrity ft. Method Man, Reprazent | 1999 |
| Snapshot ft. Reprazent | 1999 |
| Share The Fall ft. Roni Size | 1997 |
Lyrics of the artist's songs: Roni Size
Lyrics of the artist's songs: Reprazent