Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Permanent On Surfaces, artist - The Dynospectrum. Date of issue: 12.10.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Permanent On Surfaces |
| Mr. Poole is cool as he floats on lyrical concertos |
| So hip that his style slicks back like Roberto |
| Carefully, he fully assesses with thought process |
| How many MC’s in a sense be on some nonsense? |
| Like Phil Collins |
| We live in a land of confusion |
| And pollution, only solution alien intrusion |
| When something good happens, it’s an allusion |
| Temporarily everybody in the hood’s rapping so you feel like losing |
| And it’s scary |
| But if you’re very faithful |
| You’ll wait for the right time to recite rhymes |
| To your people, in your lifetime |
| To be stable |
| You have to put everything on the table |
| I’ll tell you the fable of a man who lost all his staples |
| One day he got a letter from the label |
| Now off the street, shit is sweet potato |
| Getting comfy with the cable |
| Being able to spend more cash, kicking it with friends more |
| Driving fast just to crash, what the fuck you got a Benz for? |
| Your material objects with serial numbers |
| Bring serious theatrics and dramatics like the Penumbra |
| I bring the lightning |
| Let the rest of the Spectrum bring the thunder |
| Brain storm is not warm you’ve been warned, now burn like lumber |
| Where ever it be, trouble can strike |
| And it be right in your face when we’s about to grab the mic |
| What is life? |
| I do this every day, and every night |
| Murdering kids who wanna step on the surfaces |
| Oh, I’ll break it down |
| The ingredients of this recipe |
| It’s two cups of «step the fuck back» |
| And a teaspoon of «don't mess with me» |
| Unless you be like three times the MC that you assume you is |
| Best believe that doom exist |
| Testing us is tumorous |
| Who enlisted? |
| Who pledged allegiance? |
| Who went the distance and fucked up your sequence? |
| What’s your achievements? |
| Heathens |
| Everywhere I glance |
| These kids will drop their pants for an advance |
| Cause this bitch has cramps |
| Now run and tell your camp we’re coming and we’re permanent |
| Circumference disturbing with verbal turbulence |
| Stand still, like time stood still |
| When I entered your sector |
| And took place at the base of your foothill |
| It took skill to plant it into your hair |
| Now we’re everywhere |
| Spectrum comes off every night like evening wear |
| I watch with amazement |
| And a small dose of sarcasm |
| And the MC’s in the basement |
| Embracing the bar smashing |
| It’s more than just the 20 measures stabbing |
| Making rappers mad, call them classic jabs |
| And what the masses have? |
| Ask your dad |
| It’s about the land that you stand |
| I’m here baby |
| I think it’s time you give a damn |
| Who in your crew can name this approach I vanquish? |
| I daze and flame in your ways, the show amazement |
| Raise the occasion, the vibration make you hemorrhage |
| Because contingence is headed for your lineage |
| In the fibs, we did it locally |
| Now we 'bout to move it openly |
| Internationally, make it cold, believe |
| Don’t joke with me, cause see I’m not much for laughs |
| If you come to grab, my intention is to bust that ass |
| So teach these half-breed MCs to know about monogamy |
| Married to hip-hop but fucking R&B |
| Just a novelty, a slim chance like the lottery |
| You slaughter me, I know your plans in geography |
| I rolled up and snapped like a bandanna |
| Niggas is pan-handlin' tryin' to play the role of Santa |
| I flow like a manta ray, suckas better keep it stationary |
| Cause switchin' from spot to spot you get popped |
| I keep it interactive, in the center of the mind |
| Where you lacking, you talking all that wack shit |
| I got you on a leash like a mastiff |
| And your bitch in the back, in the back, giving ass, bee-etch |