Текст песни
Yo, yeah. Check, one, two, two. Killer collab, I spit in the lab, administer jabs. Fuck 'em up and get me a cab rollin'. It's not box but it's open. Catch me in the club corner smokin', word spoken. Gettin' snaps for the iller raps, yeah. Fill your cap with a strap 'cause I'm sick Of that. Bitin' my style but never give it Back, no. Stomp through while you pitty-pat. Fresh new fitted cap, I'm a Motor City rep. Visions of 'em smokin' me to death. I bought a rosary and heat and keep it Close to me. Who posin' me a threat? Huh? Amateur's supposed to be a vet. I'm goin' at your neck. Never second-guess what we work for. Never. That's somethin' people get murked for. I'm cool, but my soul feels closer to the Earth's core. Don't make us have to start a Turf war. Street. My style A-1, handle it from day one. Swiss Alp alchemy, I found it in the bass Drum. Stick and lace up, heart racin' pacemaker. Paper chasin' won't make me compromise my nature. By the Everglades, never persuade. Suede Wallies like the Iron Man cover collates. Run your color in a portrait, notorious taste. Fortune or fame, talk cheap, ignorin' you lames. Open and aim, my ceremony torchin' the flame. Olympia, pen and pad beatin' Norman LeGame. Train daily, meditatin', small step till I stand Corrected. Grippin', flippin' black records from my Adolescence. Hear me out, feel the legends speak to My essence. Pessimist don't exist, Betting on who envy. Malice at the palace, Ben Wallace your brethren. Your think tank full of crabs, why you all Infested?
Nelson Dialect, Sterneis, Guilty Simpson — Malice at the Palace
«Malice at the Palace» — Nelson Dialect, Sterneis, Guilty Simpson. Читайте текст песни и подпевайте с караоке-подсветкой: строки текста подсвечиваются в такт музыке. Слушайте онлайн бесплатно или скачайте mp3. Длительность записи — 2:26.
