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Yeshua Dapo ED Truly Gifted Ones Here are the song lyrics for Truly Gifted Ones by Yeshua Dapo ED. For more excellent Yeshua Dapo ED lyrics, run a search! Typed by: deephunk@aol.com "Check it out yo..." (scratches and repeats) "There's no doubt you're gonna bump this in ya system..." [Yeshua DapoED] Yeah...one time...check it out Unnhh...yo, check it out, check it out...yo.. Now let's take it from the top Yeshua Dapo I'm here to rock Here to bop domes, I'm known on ya block From here to Stockholm I've shown I could rock So I'm knowin' what I dropped is prone to get copped (And ya don't stop!) On microphones I'm blowin' up the spot With written rhymes rather than goin' off the top Son I'm gettin' mine, by all means ness' I'm not lettin' time fly or dreams rest Cuz control over words like this only occurs I guess once every...(hmmm) well I dunno But with a flow to uplift Worryin' about time really doesn't make much sense All I know I'm obligated, to drop a style you might-a waited A little too long for the lift and pour Rip roarin' rhymes the mind can store Brought forth to you every time I record I be bored in my crib thinkin' of ways to amaze On a page, on a stage, wanna raise awareness Clear this epidemic goin' on, emcees are way too careless CHORUS (scratching) "This is a battle rhyme in case you haven't noticed..." [Guru] "Yo, nobody runs the point like that..." "This is a battle rhyme in case you haven't noticed..." "Nobody can touch me..." [J-Treds] "This is a battle rhyme in case you haven't noticed..." "My rhymes are designed to be perfect..." [Pumpkinhead] "Kick a rhyme..." [Lord Finesse] "I rhyme for sure, why not?" (scratching) [J-Treds] Yo...uh-huh...yo, yo, yo, yo... Ay-yo we rip mics, spit nice, blew many spots Who tried to bring it? You wanna stop like thick spikes They didn't want it, who at one gettin' this stunnin' My competition didn't like it, but been there and done it Caught a nice tan on the mic, quarter short a life span Went from headliner to head callin' 'im hype man Sick of my notch down, hot to average Stoppin' the madness (know I'm sayin?) Cuz there ain't to toppin' our status We off limits now that we award winnin' And our past tense got rappers happily forfeitin' Fallin' rapidly, leavin' 'em lyin' in the streets And when we're gone? They're all breathin' a sigh of relief, with Some sign of weakness, but I flows almighty and Those tryin' to beat this? (Well, alrighty then...) Better think twice, cuz I ain't the person or whom You should be settin' your sights, hate to burst your balloon But that's a no win..(the champ), no balls in hell Cuz I've known the thrill of victory all too well And when we spit, it's all jew-els Anyone that tries to dis, send 'em all to hell! CHORUS (scratches) "I'm over niggaz, I'm a battle type mobster..." "Y the PoED..." "...Niggaz, I'm a battle type mobster..." "J..Treds...J-Treds!" "I'm over niggaz, I'm a battle type mobster..." "Pum...Pumpkinhead...Pumpkinhead!" "By far we've been...tr-true-truly gifted...truly gifted ones son..." [Pumpkinhead] It's inconceivable how the simple minded copy my design It's an original, not your typical rhyme It'll cripple your spine, quick to shatter your sternum When I get deep like surgeons, it's magic like Earvin You wanna test hard? You better step God Your music make me cover my ears like the logo for the Def Squad Wait, hold on, you haven't heard the best part The rhymes I use'll have you baggin' groceries at a Check Mart With a tense heart, talkin' on your shoe like Get Smart Benched like Starks, shootin' a three-pointer at the playoffs (Damn!) I'm ready to spray off, like a sawed a gauge off I been workin' this for years while you be like "Sorry I'm late boss!" Save the acting for Kate Moss and take off Before I break off, raps, like a Kit Kat My tongue's a shotgun (BLAAOW!) wit' an unbelievable kick back I spit licensed art, you're just a souvenir knick-knack I got together on this track, wit' Eli Treds, yes you are the PoED, and I'm Jack... ...Daniels, light a candle on your mantle We're the big boys in this underground, ya'll niggaz is cockerspaniels It's like... CHORUS "Glance at the emcee that is standing right in front of you..." (scratches and repeats) "On my rise, I'm fly sucka, now whatcha gonna do?" "1,2...1,2..." (echoes to fade out)
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لكـل فعـل ردة فعــل تم الدعس من قبل الذئب الاسود
عزيزي العـمـيـل أترك لنا الفعل وسنترك لك الكلام لكن تأكد ان الحماية 100%10
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