Текст, перевод и аккорды “On Fire”
- Yeah... You know, critics man, Critics never got Nothing nice to say man, You know, the one thing I notice About critics man... is, Critics never ask me How my day went... well I'ma tell 'em... Yesterday my dog died; I hogtied a ho, tied her in a bow, So next time you blog, Try to spit a flow! You wanna criticize dog? Try a little more! I'm so tired of this I could blow, Fire in the hole! I'm fired up, so fire up The lighter and the dro, Better hold on a little tighter, Here I go, Flow's tighter, Hot-headed as Ghostrider, Cold-hearted as Spiderman Throwin a spider in the snow. So you better get lower Than Flow Rida Inside of a lowrider With no tires in the hole... Why am I like this? why is winter cold? Why is it when I talk I'm so biased to the hoes? Listen dog, Christmas is off, This is as soft as it gets, This isn't golf, This is a blistering assault, Those are your wounds, This is the salt, so get lost! Shit, dissin me is just like Pissin off the Wizard of Oz, Wrap a lizard in gauze, Beat you in the jaws with it, Grab the scissors and saws And cut out your livers, Gizzards and balls, Throw you in the middle of the ocean In the blizzard with Jaws. So sip piss like sizzurp Through a straw, Then discribe how it tasted Like dessert to us all, Got the gall to make Chris Piss in his drawers, Tickle him, go to his grave, Skip him and visit his dog... [Hook:] You're on fire, That's how you know you're on a roll Cause when you're hot it's like You're burnin up everyone else's cold; You're on fire, Man I'm so fuckin sick I got Ambulances pullin' me over and shit; You're on fire, You need to stop, drop and roll Cause when you say the shit To get the whole Hip-Hop Shop to blow You're on fire, you're on fire... I just put a bullshit hook In between two long ass verses, If you mistook this for a song, Look, this ain't a song, It's a warnin to Brooke Hogan And David Cook that the crook Just took over, so book, Run as fast as you can, Stop writin and kill it, I'm lightning in a skillet, You're a fuckin flash in the pan, I pop up, you bitches Scatter like hot grease Splashin a fan. Mr Mathers is the man, Yeah I'm pissed but I Would rather take this energy And stash it in a can, Come back and whip your ass With it again, Saliva's like sulfuric acid In your hand, It'll eat through anything metal, The ass of Iron Man, Turn him into plastic, So for you to think that you Could stand a fuckin chance Is asinine, yeah, Ask Denaun man, Hit a blind man with a coloring book And told him: 'Color inside the lines Or get hit with a flying crayon!' Fuck it, I ain't playin, Pull up in a van And hop out at a homeless man Holdin a sign sayin 'Vietnam Vet', I'm out my fuckin mind man, Kick over the can, beat his ass And leave him 9Grand. So if I seem a little mean to you, This ain't savage, You ain't never seen a brute. You wanna get graphic? We can go the scenic route. You couldn't make a bulimic puke On a piece of Fuckin corn and peanut poop, Sayin you sick! Quit playin you prick, Don't nobody care, Then why the fuck am I yellin at air? I ain't even talkin to no one Cause ain't nobody there, Nobody will fuckin test me Cause these hoes won't even dare, I'm wastin punchlines But I got so many to spare, I just thought of another one That might go here, Nah dont waste it, Save it psycho yeah, Plus you gotta rewrite those lines That you said bout Michael's hair... [Hook:] You're on fire, That's how you know you're on a roll Cause when you're hot it's like You're burnin up everyone else's cold; You're on fire, Man I'm so hot my motherfuckin Firetruck's on fire homie; You're on fire, You need to stop, drop and roll Cause when you say the shit To get the whole Hip-Hop Shop to blow You're on fire, you're on fire...
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