Origineel
As the world keeps turning chronic keeps burning
(This ain’t no) street sermon these niggas are determined
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blown
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
You motherfuckin clone, get off that nigga’s style and get’cha own
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step
And kept ya big fuckin mouth shut
I woke up with a stomach ache, headache, back ache
Advil, Tylenol, Peptol, slept so long realised my world is wrong
My world is gone like disco
Blowin up Cisco and in my Cammo
Standin in back of me was my soul
Thinking of the easiest way to get a bank roll
Knowledge is urban-able, exhaust manifold
A tar can of hos to lubricate my system quick
Shaky bitches off the dick
‘Cause she got a vice grip on the flow from my lips
I’m slow but equipped with the proper tools
Show me the one talkin shit so I can drop a fool
I’m out to glow a nigga roll if he think he Mr CREAM
Come back on the scene and smoke a phillie, G
I really dream of gettin mine now let me tell you what’s silly
Me, buckin with my team is murder one
I heard a gun bustin shots (SHOTS!), down the block (BLOCK!)
I guess a nigga gettin what he got (GOT!)
Shit is heavy like a medicine ball and broke niggas to smoke niggas
I’ll fuck one for y’all, they made ya last phone call
To a trick that didn’t even care
‘Cause she was gettin fucked somewhere, you’re stuck in there
Now you want to bust, nigga, now you want to kill, nigga (Nigga)
Nigga how ya feel? (Nigga)
You can’t try to be real (You can’t try to be real)
Shit is for real
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blown
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
You motherfuckin clone, get off that nigga’s style and get’cha own
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step
And kept ya big fuckin mouth shut
I’m cooler than most, but I got the shorter temper
And I’m cooler than foes that don’t know how it goes
Let’s take it back to the first side
When you was a new jack and jockin my new track
But you was wrong, didn’t know about the big long
Head-strong, nicknamed Dav from off the school yard
Witta teenage group I’m turnin loots to tracks
Me and my niggas like (These tracks are laced with bomb weed and tight lyrics)
You want to know what the hos used to do
When me and my crew came bustin through
All sorts of blushins brew
(A neighbourhood find, a gift too swift, Miscellane is the crew)
Underground till my brown eyed balls turned blue
This is for the bitches and niggas that want to front
I smoke on, I broke on till I spoke on
Miscellane packin shows like Farrakhan
Where is on another level with two niggas that’s on the same plateau
Now that’s three times your tightest flow
And three times ya tightest track, three times your fattest sack
Three times is clever (BUCK!)
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blown
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
You motherfuckin clone, get off that nigga’s style and get’cha own
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step
And kept ya big fuckin mouth shut
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blown
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
You motherfuckin clone, get off that nigga’s style and get’cha own
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step
And kept ya big fuckin mouth shut
Thou shalt rest in grief who lay buried in the belt
Barely included work, leaves bodies scarred and hurt
To art in hell, where the next man dwells
The place with stankin’ pussy and crack rock dwells
Vertaling
Terwijl de wereld blijft draaien, blijft chronisch branden.
(This ain’t no) street sermon these niggas are determined
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh dwazen in het gezicht die geen respect hebben
Bescherm ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blowed
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
Jij motherfuckin kloon, ga van die nigga’s stijl af en neem je eigen
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
Voor de negers die sliepen, hadden ze in de pas moeten blijven
En je grote bek dichthouden
Ik werd wakker met buikpijn, hoofdpijn, rugpijn
Advil, Tylenol, Peptol, zo lang geslapen dat ik besefte dat mijn wereld fout is
My world is gone like disco
Blowin up Cisco and in my Cammo
Achter me stond mijn ziel
Denken aan de makkelijkste manier om een bankrol te krijgen
Kennis is stedelijk, uitlaatspruitstuk
Een teerblik van hoeren om mijn systeem snel te smeren
Shaky bitches off the dick
‘Cause she got a vice grip on the flow from my lips
Ik ben traag maar uitgerust met het juiste gereedschap
Toon me degene die onzin uitkraamt zodat ik een idioot kan laten vallen
Ik ben erop uit om een neger te laten gloeien als hij denkt dat hij Mr CREAM is
Come back on the scene and smoke a phillie, G
I really dream of gettin mine now let me tell you what’s silly
Me, buckin with my team is murder one
I heard a gun bustin shots (SHOTS!), down the block (BLOCK!)
I guess a nigga gettin what he got (GOT!)
Shit is zwaar als een medicijnbal en brakke niggas om niggas te roken
I’ll fuck one for y’all, they made ya last phone call
To a trick that didn’t even care
‘Cause she was gettin fucked somewhere, you’re stuck in there
Nu wil je busten, nigga, nu wil je moorden, nigga (Nikker)
Neger, hoe voel je je? (Nigga)
You can’t try to be real
Shit is echt
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blowed
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
Jij motherfuckin kloon, ga van die nigga’s stijl af en neem je eigen
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
Voor de negers die sliepen, hadden ze in de pas moeten blijven
En je grote bek dichthouden
Ik ben cooler dan de meesten, maar ik heb het kortste humeur
En ik ben cooler dan vijanden die niet weten hoe het gaat
Laten we teruggaan naar de eerste kant
When you was a new jack and jockin my new track
Maar je had het mis, je wist niet van de grote lange
Head-strong, bijnaam Dav van het schoolplein
Withta teenage group I’m turnin loots to tracks
Me and my niggas like (These tracks are laced with bomb weed and tight lyrics)
You want to know what the hos used to do
When me and my crew came bustin through
All sorts of blushins brew
(Een buurt vondst, een gift te snel, Miscellane is de groep)
Underground till my brown eyed balls turned blue
This is for the bitches and niggas that want to front
Ik rookte door, ik brak door tot ik sprak
Miscellane pakt shows in zoals Farrakhan
Where is on another level with two niggas that’s on the same plateau
Now that’s three times your tightest flow
En drie keer je strakste track, drie keer je dikste zak
Drie keer is slim (BUCK!)
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blowed
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
Jij motherfuckin kloon, ga van die nigga’s stijl af en neem je eigen
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
Voor de negers die sliepen, hadden ze in de pas moeten blijven
En hou je grote bek dicht
I flow like CD’s in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty ya rhymes are crusty you can’t bust G
So leave me alone I’m in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blowed
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I’m low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
Jij motherfuckin kloon, ga van die nigga’s stijl af en neem je eigen
It’s Miscellane and it’s on again
Voor de negers die sliepen, hadden ze in de pas moeten blijven
En hou je grote bek dicht
Gij zult rusten in verdriet die begraven lag in de riem
Nauwelijks opgenomen werk, laat lichamen getekend en gekwetst achter
Om in de hel te zijn, waar de volgende man woont
De plaats waar stinkende kut en crack rock woont