All Balls Don't Bounce Revisited
Aceyalone lyrics
Aceyalone lyrics
"Jack of All Trades Lyrics"
Mira Ninita Lyrics
mira ninita te voy a llevar a ver la luna brillando en el mar mira hacia el cielo y olvida ese l?nguido temor que fue permanente emoci?n ay, fue permanente emoci?n para la hija de un hombre con ojos de cristal y papel sellado en la piel mira hacia el cielo y olvida ese l?nguido temor que fue permanente emoci?n
mira ninita te voy a llevar a ver la luna brillando en el mar mira hacia el cielo y olvida ese l?nguido temor que fue permanente emoci?n ay, fue permanente emoci?n para la hija de un hombre con ojos de cristal y papel sellado en la piel mira hacia el cielo y olvida ese l?nguido temor que fue permanente emoci?n
[Chorus]
I'm the jack of all trades, master of one
Black and underpaid, blastin this mic gun
Put it to your temple, and pop yo' pimple
Break you down like kempo, I'm trained in the arts
[Aceyalone]
I specify in rockin my page from the heart
I dig down deep within my psyche
Information excites me, the knowledge invites me
When I, throw on my Nike's and step to it nicely
Huh, it's unlikely any man could out-mic me
Lightning, please strike me like it did when I was a child
Hit me with a hundred thousand volts and make me smile
You name it I can aim it, catch it and tame it, explain it
Take it and paint it in beautiful technicolor
Di
Holdin' On To You Lyrics
There are those who'd love to love me Take me home and take care of me Treat me just the way you never do But i'm here on your door step Something i can't seem to help Like a fool, i'm holdin' on to you Chorus: Oh, you don't love me, you don't love me You place everything above me Like a fool, i'm holdin' on to you You don't want me, you don't want merectly from another place you could expect no other
To stand by these trues and break these rules
We defy the laws of cool and sang these blues and bring this news
[Chorus]
[Aceyalone]
I'm that hip-hop SPOKESman, I ain't a coke man
A good folks man, he reached for the mic and broke his hand
It's not my problem, it's not my fault
It's not my concern, I don't give a shit about
Them dirty fingers, reachin for the scepter
All up in yo' head but I'm not Dr. Lector
Or Dr. Phil, but I still got to kill
white widdle, black widdle, fat little pill
To take for your enjoyment, to get psychadelic
I don't sell it I spill it out, and tell it so angelic
My rap gat makes your brain splat
Blow up, everything that's holdin up your hat
It's firin the pistons gas, in the engines
Fuck a foot in the door, we takin off the hinges
When my, dash is broken, glass is broken
And class is open, and it's still left smokin
[Chorus]
[Aceyalone]
Okay Mr. Pick to Ten, is it sickenin?
What kind of little box you thinkin in?Think again
Draw a blank, you saw a tank
But didn't see my soldiers on the flank movin up another rank
The Hip-Hop Hall of Fame went up in flames
When they, mention my name it's tension in they brains
An extension of the game and, I stake this claim
And break
There are those who'd love to love me Take me home and take care of me Treat me just the way you never do But i'm here on your door step Something i can't seem to help Like a fool, i'm holdin' on to you Chorus: Oh, you don't love me, you don't love me You place everything above me Like a fool, i'm holdin' on to you You don't want me, you don't want me
To stand by these trues and break these rules
We defy the laws of cool and sang these blues and bring this news
[Chorus]
[Aceyalone]
I'm that hip-hop SPOKESman, I ain't a coke man
A good folks man, he reached for the mic and broke his hand
It's not my problem, it's not my fault
It's not my concern, I don't give a shit about
Them dirty fingers, reachin for the scepter
All up in yo' head but I'm not Dr. Lector
Or Dr. Phil, but I still got to kill
white widdle, black widdle, fat little pill
To take for your enjoyment, to get psychadelic
I don't sell it I spill it out, and tell it so angelic
Speciell Lyrics
Jag tror att du ?r Speciell Jag satt vid tv'n f?r mig sj?lv N?r du tog ?ver varje cell i mig De gav efter en i s?nder Jag tror att du ?r onormal Du kryper under mina skal Du f?r v?r sol att verka svag, n?r jag K?nner efter hur det br?nner Ingen annan kan f? mig just s? h?r Varje g?ng n?r jag blundar ?r du d?r (hej hej!) Jag tror att du ?r
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Jag tror att du ?r Speciell Jag satt vid tv'n f?r mig sj?lv N?r du tog ?ver varje cell i mig De gav efter en i s?nder Jag tror att du ?r onormal Du kryper under mina skal Du f?r v?r sol att verka svag, n?r jag K?nner efter hur det br?nner Ingen annan kan f? mig just s? h?r Varje g?ng n?r jag blundar ?r du d?r (hej hej!) Jag tror att du ?r
My rap gat makes your brain splat
Blow up, everything that's holdin up your hat
It's firin the pistons gas, in the engines
Fuck a foot in the door, we takin off the hinges
When my, dash is broken, glass is broken
And class is open, and it's still left smokin
[Chorus]
[Aceyalone]
Okay Mr. Pick to Ten, is it sickenin?
What kind of little box you thinkin in?Think again
Draw a blank, you saw a tank
But didn't see my soldiers on the flank movin up another rank
The Hip-Hop Hall of Fame went up in flames
When they, mention my name it's tension in they brains
An extension of the game and, I stake this claim
And break
Lug Lyrics
this rooster tail aint layin' no eggs I aint got enough to fill it with unless not quite as high as an elephants eye Dust city alright Ranchero 7.... 5 How High? Like a thrillride (x 2) three in the tree or four on the floor who loves ya baby worth its weight in gold no daily driver haul ride and rackthese chains and this one's for the last train
I'm the jack of all trades, master of one
And the thing I mastered is blastin this mic gun
Put it to your temple, and pop yo' pimple
Break you down like kempo, I'm trained in the arts
We got one verse left to rock this beat
And seperate the good shit from the weak
So, get in the groove, and feel the sound
And once you're inside spread yourself around
From the bottom to the top, top, to the bottom
I'm, gonna rock 'em, while, I still got 'em
I rock this hour with style and power
And this, is yo' MC hour
I don't know if, all of you have heard
But it's up to YOU to rip.. {*vocals fade out*
this rooster tail aint layin' no eggs I aint got enough to fill it with unless not quite as high as an elephants eye Dust city alright Ranchero 7.... 5 How High? Like a thrillride (x 2) three in the tree or four on the floor who loves ya baby worth its weight in gold no daily driver haul ride and rack
I'm the jack of all trades, master of one
And the thing I mastered is blastin this mic gun
Put it to your temple, and pop yo' pimple
Break you down like kempo, I'm trained in the arts
We got one verse left to rock this beat
And seperate the good shit from the weak
So, get in the groove, and feel the sound
And once you're inside spread yourself around
From the bottom to the top, top, to the bottom
I'm, gonna rock 'em, while, I still got 'em
I rock this hour with style and power
And this, is yo' MC hour
I don't know if, all of you have heard
But it's up to YOU to rip.. {*vocals fade out*