Lirik Lagu The Lesson, Pt. 1 - The Roots
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TIPS PENCARIAN LIRIK FAVORIT ANDA
ANDA MENGETAHUI JUDUL DAN NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketikkan nama penyanyi dan judul lagu, berikan tanda kutip di judul lagu, misal: Yovie "Menjaga Hati";
- bila tidak berhasil, coba untuk mengilangkan tanda kutip, misal: Yovie Menjaga Hati; atau
- dapat juga dengan mengeklik menu A B C D.., lalu cari berdasarkan nama artis. Yovie dimulai dengan Y, klik Y. Lihat daftar lagu, dan dapatkan yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketik nama penyanyi, misal: YOVIE, akan muncul banyak halaman, telusuri dan pilih dari halaman-halaman tersebut; atau
- klik menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis Y, cari Yovie, dan cari lirik yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI SYAIR
- Ketikkan penggalan syair yang Anda ketahui, misal:
Tanpamu tiada berarti
Tak mampu lagi berdiri
Cahaya kasihmu menuntunku
Kembali dalam dekapan tanganmu - Masukkan kata-kata penting. Misal: tiada berarti berdiri cahaya dekapan.
- Hindari kata-kata yang berkemungkinan memiliki ada dua versi atau lebih. Misal: tanpamu dapat ditulis tanpa mu.
TETAP TIDAK DAPAT MENEMUKAN LIRIK YANG ANDA CARI
- Pilih menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis atau judul lagu.
- Bila masih tidak dapat menemukan lirik yang Anda cari, mungkin kami bisa membantu Anda. Silakan menghubungi kami.
Verse One: Black Thought
Lyrically versatileMy rap definition is wildI wrote graffiti as a juvenileRestin on deuce treyAnd used to boost gray Kangol'swith 555 Soul's from the streetsof the Ill-a-delphiadaic insaneFor monetary gain, niggaz is slain on the trainIt's homicideFor wealth stealth missions for crackIn the alleyways, where niggaz get grazed in the backFrom stray shotsClips with hollow tips, for your spine orEither remain calm, catch a rhyme, to your mindNiggaz ya know my styleI run a--motherfuckin-rap--mukWhen Malik get a U-Haul truckI stand five, foot seven, in command of the partyand scam like Uncle SamI'm never caught up in the glass eyeof your action cam, cause I'm down lowArtistic exquisite rap pro, that get the doughIt's the Philly borough dreadthoroughbread for doloI bag solo, like a nigga that boost PoloSteppin through the corridor, of metaphorsLookin over my leftShoulder the mic, still feel colder than beforeWith this jazz shit I hit your jawDice Raw, get up on the mic, my young poorI be the nigga blowin up the spot on tourSurely real to the core, old school like eighty-fourI never die, and raps till my lungs collapseThen relax until my knack for tracksBring it back, on timeWhen I rhyme my rep remainEither go against the grain or your ass is found slainI overcome, niggaz want styles then I throw you someShow you some, get on the mic and take it over sonDice Raw, the motherfuckin Wild NoidGet on the mic and perpetratin is void
Verse Two: Dice Raw
Ya leave niggaz missin in action like their dads in the projectsMy style like an old mac, travel round and catch wreckI'm ill versatile, with the skill no moreWack MC's wanna flex but their styles they boreGot to know the real meaning of the ill shit, kidI do mad damage but never will catch a bidWith my knapsack, full of ill shit that I just bo
Lyrically versatileMy rap definition is wildI wrote graffiti as a juvenileRestin on deuce treyAnd used to boost gray Kangol'swith 555 Soul's from the streetsof the Ill-a-delphiadaic insaneFor monetary gain, niggaz is slain on the trainIt's homicideFor wealth stealth missions for crackIn the alleyways, where niggaz get grazed in the backFrom stray shotsClips with hollow tips, for your spine orEither remain calm, catch a rhyme, to your mindNiggaz ya know my styleI run a--motherfuckin-rap--mukWhen Malik get a U-Haul truckI stand five, foot seven, in command of the partyand scam like Uncle SamI'm never caught up in the glass eyeof your action cam, cause I'm down lowArtistic exquisite rap pro, that get the doughIt's the Philly borough dreadthoroughbread for doloI bag solo, like a nigga that boost PoloSteppin through the corridor, of metaphorsLookin over my leftShoulder the mic, still feel colder than beforeWith this jazz shit I hit your jawDice Raw, get up on the mic, my young poorI be the nigga blowin up the spot on tourSurely real to the core, old school like eighty-fourI never die, and raps till my lungs collapseThen relax until my knack for tracksBring it back, on timeWhen I rhyme my rep remainEither go against the grain or your ass is found slainI overcome, niggaz want styles then I throw you someShow you some, get on the mic and take it over sonDice Raw, the motherfuckin Wild NoidGet on the mic and perpetratin is void
Verse Two: Dice Raw
Ya leave niggaz missin in action like their dads in the projectsMy style like an old mac, travel round and catch wreckI'm ill versatile, with the skill no moreWack MC's wanna flex but their styles they boreGot to know the real meaning of the ill shit, kidI do mad damage but never will catch a bidWith my knapsack, full of ill shit that I just bo
