Lyrics:
(Joint)
Tarts velünk itt a béke szigetén
forró nyári hangulat egy nap lementén
mindegy hogy egy panel tetején
vagy a Balaton partjának szélén
most
was like "Who's on the
Panel?", and everyone said, "Familiar faces"
Logan, Hattie Collins, Chantelle Fiddy
I don't rate them
Ras Kwame, Donatella (Who
1993 exoticness, know what I'm sayin'?
Let's get technical, where's your bone at?
Get up on that shit, aight?
Yo
Started off on the Island, AK
on this lyrical high real quick
1993 exoticness, know what I'm sayin'?
Let's get technical, where's your bone at?
Get up on that shit, aight?
Yo
1993 exoticness, know what I'm sayin'?
Let's get technical, where's your bone at?
Get up on that shit, aight?
Yo
Started off on the Island, AK
rudimentary technical abilities couldn't kill me
Knocked me for a loop, but I could still breathe
He had the crowd going by appearance
Here comes
Star,? make the comp feel smaller than answer
Disconnect the nerve endings on
Your wack sensitivity
Provide five side audio
Technical and imagery
on mercury
Gravity adjustment must then
Step up contestant
Number 12, I was 13 he started bursting ammunition that wasn't working
His rudimentary technical
so technical, got me thinkin' mechanical
Puffi' on those botanicals, every second so critical
Board with the human language
Anguish, beats on my
so technical, got me thinkin' mechanical
Puffin' on those botanical, every second so critical
Board with the human language
Anguish, beats on my
cans, It's a beautiful day
Time you reported to your life
Why is everything so technical, got me thinkin' mechanical
Puffin' on those botanicals,
on his
Own, and a double entendre for technical
Fouls in basketball jay opens
There by asking forgiveness for making
His first dollars off drugs, cooked
the points
Man my joints need a break
I don't lose
(I never do it)
Back to back MVP
So my team let me lead
I'm no fluke
It's so technical homie
I'm no
Gucci corduroy
Gilroy strains in my joints loud is stronger than some 'roids
Headed headed to the Bay straight from Norman's Cay
Headed headed
comot my joint
Pere, make I give you my cheque book
Take anything, anything wey you won do
Kolobi kor, komole, je Ka kolobi kor
Gbe soke je ki'n panel
I remember being richer than a king
The minutes of the day were golden
I recall that when the joint passed 'round
My body felt a little colder
I remember being richer than a king
The minutes of the day were golden
I recall that when the joint passed round
My body felt a little colder
But
line, that's a technical foul
I don't know what the fuck you talking 'bout, I'm hanging up right now
Nigga, you ain't Nick Cannon and this ain't wilding
and soul
The MC regulator, microphone detonator
My real live want to battle niggas take a vouch
Eighty Shieks, throw them joints and +Let Da fuckin Monkey
Well let's see, we had the eh, we had the Fairlane
Then the u-joints went out on that and the bushings and then your mother wanted to trade it in
'em better get the anesthesia
Your favorite rappers are the bullies now the bullies getting beat up
Technical foul. Ah shit, just got T'ed up
Like
Shieks, throw them joints and 'Let da fuckin' monkey out'
Not "Hell yeah" but "Hell, yeah" in Cin' City
When I spit this here it's easy as
(1, 2, 3)
You
la voix
Pour que vous compreniez qu'il y'a pas d'raison qu'on m'fasse la loi
Je saute à pied joint, pied joint, j'ai l'kung fu de David Carradine
C'est
technical manuals
And the joint chiefs of staff
And the brokers on Wall Street said
Don't make us laugh
You're a smart kid
Time is linear
Memory is
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