| Yeh, yeah!
|
| two double zero four
|
| Sagopa K, Kucukmira underground
|
| (Give me some bass!)
|
| Istanbul, Samsun
|
| bass
|
| Bass line, dope shit, snare kicks ass
|
| One mic versus punch line bass
|
| Hip-Hop raw shit, bring that noise
|
| Sagopa fucking pa-pa!
|
| Droppin'em!
|
| No!
|
| Bass line, dope shit, snare kicks ass
|
| One mic versus punch line bass
|
| Hip-Hop raw shit, bring that noise
|
| Sagopa fucking pa-pa!
|
| Droppin'em!
|
| No!
|
| I got leprosy with the answers to the questions I asked
|
| My face is hung
|
| How was this Rap written? |
| Look!
|
| Obey the adjective, sometimes whose fet
|
| I resisted time, close that book
|
| Interregnum of the era left behind
|
| Hand that stick to peace, you magician
|
| In the dream world of flies at the tip of my mind
|
| And I'm suffocating with these sentence refugees in the lines of my heart (go away)
|
| damn!)
|
| I wish my every word was free
|
| My every word if it flew like a bird and had a kiss in your ears
|
| My candle burns, my dollar eye
|
| Not a me but plural, my word burns
|
| One solution plural view
|
| Every grape turns black
|
| egotistical ties blind knot
|
| A death stuck on my tongue
|
| Read this poem one morning and one evening
|
| My foreword in both eyes
|
| Bass line, dope shit, snare kicks ass
|
| One mic versus punch line bass
|
| Hip-Hop raw shit, bring that noise
|
| Sagopa fucking pa-pa!
|
| Droppin'em!
|
| No!
|
| Bass line, dope shit, snare kicks ass
|
| One mic versus punch line bass
|
| Hip-Hop raw shit, bring that noise
|
| Sagopa fucking pa-pa!
|
| Droppin'em!
|
| No!
|
| you are a white page life
|
| stinky at first
|
| I wrote every single line by myself
|
| I fought tirelessly with a pen, a martyr of the wave
|
| The sun rises, my eyes burn, always liar puppets
|
| Stone baby in my hands, stone record on my turntables
|
| stone heart in the middle of the heart
|
| And leave my life on the road
|
| I walked barefoot alone in a rain of bullets
|
| Who was his target? |
| God doesn't need my life
|
| A war smelly white baby
|
| A peacemaker Malcolm X
|
| A stinking black angel who fought
|
| I always looked for an opportunity
|
| I always went near him and whispered:
|
| "Don't fight, always make love."
|
| quarrel rose flowers thorn trenches
|
| And tell me, who was the hero?
|
| We are slaves to a half-life
|
| Goodbye to man
|
| You are an acre person
|
| How long will we last before sinking in the same boat?
|
| Each exam has results!
|
| Bass line, dope shit, snare kicks ass
|
| One mic versus punch line bass
|
| Hip-Hop raw shit, bring that noise
|
| Sagopa fucking pa-pa!
|
| Droppin'em!
|
| No!
|
| Bass line, dope shit, snare kicks ass
|
| One mic versus punch line bass
|
| Hip-Hop raw shit, bring that noise
|
| Sagopa fucking pa-pa!
|
| Droppin'em!
|
| No! |