Gospel
에 게시:2022년
플레이:0번
지속:03:31
플레이
정지시키다
모으다
에 추가
공유하다

作词 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith

作曲 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith

Yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

What? (Uh) What? (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Dre, you ready? (Woo, woo, woo, woo)

C'mon (Yo, we gotta do whatever)

Alright (Check, check, check, check, check)

Get 'em!

Cut 'em undercover, timeless

Ready for 'em, progress

Feelin' like I'm just gettin' started

Two shots back for my dearly departed

Uh, you are now dеalin' with a monster

Boss shit, profits

Doc Dre, bitch, I'm a prophet

Black Wall Street, niggas know whеre the stock is

Heh, try me

Niggas never see me, but it ain't hard to find me

Heh, unwinding

Shit's blinding, still grinding

Uprising, agh

Stop talking 'bout the past, I'm the future, nigga

Agh

Nigga like me still here, mother****er, go figure

Lookin' for my next gold digger

This summer here gon' be colder than winter

Already told you, I fold you like hundreds of billions

And you can go missing, put that on my children

Bet that, nigga, what?

Regret that, run it up

Heh, and I'm about to sum it up

This shit here that problem

Livin' at the bottom of a bottle

"Full throttle" my motto, eh

****in' with me like ****in' with the lotto

That awful in your nostril

In a brothel, this is gospel

Yeah, I'ma need all that, pronto

Yes, I, yes, I, yes, I ride 'til I die

Give a **** if you bitches die

Put a mother****ing hole in your face

Back up, bitch, don't even try

I am that mother****er, been the coldest

Why you on that? No one know us

Overdosed on what dope is (Yeah)

Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did

Like a satanic cult, it's

An old ritual slaughtering GOATs, bitch (GOATs, bitch, yeah)

You're ****ing with the original, flow's sick

And anybody can get it—COVID (**** with that?)

I done wrote shit

That was so sharp, I could slit my own ****ing throat with it

So rich, I got more chips than my shoulders

And I'm about as approachable as a roach is (Roach is)

Yeah, so better steer clear from him

Here comes a nuclear bomb for your eardrums

Lyricism at its most fearsome and fierce

We're on another tier like a tear duct's upper echelon (Yeah)

Your career sucked (Meaning what?), it was sheer luck (Like what?)

Like a ****in' leprechaun with its beard cut

(Still a) Punisher, weapon drawn with a beer gut (Haha)

You're slower than a Decepticon with its gear stuck

(And I what?) I serial kill, and you're Kellogg's (What?)

I love checks and I hate tricks

And you're a fake bitch (Bitch)

I could spot you like you 'bout to weight lift (Yeah)

Bitch, I'm badder than cake mix

(But I) Can't be whipped with egg beaters (Nah)

You cunts must be out of your labias

And God is my alias, so if I don't have faith in me

Then it basically makes me an atheist (Woo!)

Nate Diaz got the world by the tracheas

In a chokehold and a sleeper (*Snores*)

Yeah, and me and Dre are like dog hair (Woof)

We're both in our lab coats like retrievers (Grrr)

But like a Doberman, I'm a whole different breed of (What?)

Animal mutt mixed with a overachiever (Yeah)

Oh, you're the king of rap? You're 'bout to be overthrown

Like a pass over the head of an open receiver

This shit could end up comin' to blows like a wiener (Haha)

But I ain't finished puttin' these hoes through the wringer (Nah)

Like clothes in between the two rollers, and– wait, no

What I mean is flows interwoven, I treat 'em like thread (Why?)

That's how I wound up sewin' Machine up

So, ****s, if you don't give up me, then

Time to ride or die, 'cause you're either both or you're neither (Yeah, yeah)

Throw a middle finger up if you're rollin', but, me, I'm gonna— (Yeah, yeah)

Ride 'til I die

Give a **** if you bitches die

Put a mother****ing hole in your face

Back up, bitch, don't even try

I am that mother****er, been the coldest

Why you on that? No one know us

Overdosed on what dope is

Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did

作词 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith

作曲 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith

Yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

What? (Uh) What? (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Dre, you ready? (Woo, woo, woo, woo)

C'mon (Yo, we gotta do whatever)

Alright (Check, check, check, check, check)

Get 'em!

Cut 'em undercover, timeless

Ready for 'em, progress

Feelin' like I'm just gettin' started

Two shots back for my dearly departed

Uh, you are now dеalin' with a monster

Boss shit, profits

Doc Dre, bitch, I'm a prophet

Black Wall Street, niggas know whеre the stock is

Heh, try me

Niggas never see me, but it ain't hard to find me

Heh, unwinding

Shit's blinding, still grinding

Uprising, agh

Stop talking 'bout the past, I'm the future, nigga

Agh

Nigga like me still here, mother****er, go figure

Lookin' for my next gold digger

This summer here gon' be colder than winter

Already told you, I fold you like hundreds of billions

And you can go missing, put that on my children

Bet that, nigga, what?

Regret that, run it up

Heh, and I'm about to sum it up

This shit here that problem

Livin' at the bottom of a bottle

"Full throttle" my motto, eh

****in' with me like ****in' with the lotto

That awful in your nostril

In a brothel, this is gospel

Yeah, I'ma need all that, pronto

Yes, I, yes, I, yes, I ride 'til I die

Give a **** if you bitches die

Put a mother****ing hole in your face

Back up, bitch, don't even try

I am that mother****er, been the coldest

Why you on that? No one know us

Overdosed on what dope is (Yeah)

Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did

Like a satanic cult, it's

An old ritual slaughtering GOATs, bitch (GOATs, bitch, yeah)

You're ****ing with the original, flow's sick

And anybody can get it—COVID (**** with that?)

I done wrote shit

That was so sharp, I could slit my own ****ing throat with it

So rich, I got more chips than my shoulders

And I'm about as approachable as a roach is (Roach is)

Yeah, so better steer clear from him

Here comes a nuclear bomb for your eardrums

Lyricism at its most fearsome and fierce

We're on another tier like a tear duct's upper echelon (Yeah)

Your career sucked (Meaning what?), it was sheer luck (Like what?)

Like a ****in' leprechaun with its beard cut

(Still a) Punisher, weapon drawn with a beer gut (Haha)

You're slower than a Decepticon with its gear stuck

(And I what?) I serial kill, and you're Kellogg's (What?)

I love checks and I hate tricks

And you're a fake bitch (Bitch)

I could spot you like you 'bout to weight lift (Yeah)

Bitch, I'm badder than cake mix

(But I) Can't be whipped with egg beaters (Nah)

You cunts must be out of your labias

And God is my alias, so if I don't have faith in me

Then it basically makes me an atheist (Woo!)

Nate Diaz got the world by the tracheas

In a chokehold and a sleeper (*Snores*)

Yeah, and me and Dre are like dog hair (Woof)

We're both in our lab coats like retrievers (Grrr)

But like a Doberman, I'm a whole different breed of (What?)

Animal mutt mixed with a overachiever (Yeah)

Oh, you're the king of rap? You're 'bout to be overthrown

Like a pass over the head of an open receiver

This shit could end up comin' to blows like a wiener (Haha)

But I ain't finished puttin' these hoes through the wringer (Nah)

Like clothes in between the two rollers, and– wait, no

What I mean is flows interwoven, I treat 'em like thread (Why?)

That's how I wound up sewin' Machine up

So, ****s, if you don't give up me, then

Time to ride or die, 'cause you're either both or you're neither (Yeah, yeah)

Throw a middle finger up if you're rollin', but, me, I'm gonna— (Yeah, yeah)

Ride 'til I die

Give a **** if you bitches die

Put a mother****ing hole in your face

Back up, bitch, don't even try

I am that mother****er, been the coldest

Why you on that? No one know us

Overdosed on what dope is

Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did

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