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Down The Line

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  • Текст, перевод и аккорды “Down The Line”

  • [kane] Okay, okay, okay, okay Attention to the whole crew Scoob lover, scrap lover, I dont need your dancin Mister cee I dont need you on the turntables Ant live I dont need you collectin the dough And little daddy since you my brother Get yo ass on in here Cause we gettin ready to take things down the line Here we go one time Prepare yourself for mc terror And dont make the error of tryin to come near a Rapper so smooth and swift with the gift of gab To grab the mic, cause Im sorta like Vincent price, but you never been so nice So back up off me, Im seperatin men from mice Kickin ass in every committee, city to city Until both shoes are city The regulator innovator dominator creator of data Plus an imitator assassinator Lyrics dont display a too don sweet Hard as concrete, and always on beat Steppin to this, youre not allowed You keep frontin on the stage like youre rockin the crowd Snatchin the microphone real proud But your rhymes are so booty you should write em on white cloud So next up down the line, scrap lover [scrap lover] Aiy-aiy-yo, the microphones mine But I prefer peace, so the roadll get rough when A toy mc, gets the heart to pull a bluff and Theres no laughter, cause the one that Im after Is smashed, for that reason you have to Make sure each and every lyric is harmless Cause if not, you wont be able to calm this Brother from brooklyn, made to fit a groove And prepared for the unexpected, to make a move So put up your girl, and lets see whos in trouble troop And if you got a sister, then make it a double scoop The capital s the c, the r-a-p Stands for me, cause Im the Only mc with an original rap style You disagree, you get put on the scrap pile So stay off the set, with george and jet-son You never seen a dancer who rapped well you met one Now spin the wheel of fortunes or be wise and stay back Co-host my show, like pat and dont sa-jak shit Or get ate like oats and barley Save your sweat for keith, and the beef for charlie So next up, goin down the line, scoob lover [scoob lover] Yo, the microphones mine Its the s yall, to the c yall, double-o b yall Well God damn its me yall Jump back, kiss myself, Im so fly Sip a brew or two, cause yo, I dont get high I might wave hi.. .. at a pretty young girl that walk by But yo, you all that, you cant stop? A-with the weave in your head like a mop? You must know karate, cause your face look chopped Now back to the subject of the matter I eat a lot of food, but I wont get fatter Let me see Im slim, my hair is well trimmed And when Im low-key I throw on a brim But Im not conceited, when hangin out I need it For when trouble comes then I never have to meet it Im intellectually spoken, Im not jokin What are you, smokin? You be hopin wishin and prayin To be like scoob but what are you sayin? Well it takes style, charisma, class Fuck up on the lover, and I bust your ass So next up, movin down the line Mister cee [mister cee] Yo, the microphones mine Mission, to make djs feel the wrath So heres a paragraph, written on behalf Of the ruler, dictator, dj ambassador Makin a massacre, you couldnt last through a Round of combat, where my left arms at My mouth with the mic in my hand, when I attack I shake and bake or fake a snake Take em and make em ache and flake, I break like an earthquake When I erupt, mcs I corrupt, to be blunt Ima tear shit up So next up goin down the line The little daddy shane [little daddy shane] The mic is all mine Mcs crawl by when they see this tall guy Six foot three huh, nobodys small fry The little d-a double-d y The s-h-a-n-e, yes its me You better believe theres no comp and Im certain So if you try to battle me, then its cur-tains Im no joke, the wrong one to provoke One false move and kerrrrrr-roak! So take it easy and slide on greasy Cause Im more rougher than hair when its peasy Im more rougher than steak when its raw So keep that in mind, mon cherie amore Cause Im a lover you find quite young And brooklyn new york, is where Im from So keep it on and you dont quit That supercalafragilisticexpalidopeshit So next up down the line, ant live [ant live] Yo, the microphones mine Yeah I took it, I aint gonna give it back And its a fact that I can swing, Im not a new jack Got the mic in a chokehold, you wont hear a peep Then I put it to sleep I see a lot of brothers got raisins in the place Not al pacino, I dont need a scarface But I know, if some shit goes down Ill turn the whole new york into bucktown A face aint real scarred, cause I real hard And I aint no bullshit bodyguard Walk the streets to new york and stay alive All I need is my loaded four-five And sweet and deadly

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