название:

The Punisher


автор:

Eric B. & Rakim


альбомы: Don't Sweat The Technique
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.2 / 1206 просмотров
Kill him againTry to identify the man in front of ya
But it aint the role, the gear or the money, the
Swift intellectionist with plenty ya
Bite, if its dark Ill spark every one of ya
I throw a mic in the crowd its a question
I got the answer it includes directions
Go manufacture a mask show me after
A glass of a master that has to make musical massacreAttack your wack till its handicapped
Youll never hold the mic again, try to hand it back
'Cuz every rapper that comes I cut off his thumbs
Put a record to his neck if he swallows it hums
Slice from ear to ear so till can hear better
Before he bleed to death here, hear every letter
And you can see quick and thick the blood can getIf you try to change the style or the subject
As I get deep in the rhyme Im becomin a
Emcee murderer before Im done, Im a
Prepare the chamber the tortures comin up
Trip through the mind at the end youll find
Its the punisherKill em againI hold the mic as hostage, emcees are ransom
Rhymesll punish em 'cuz they dont undertsand em
I heat up his brain, then explain then I hand him
A redhot microphone thats how I planned em
Rhymes call information unite midnight
Like a platoon putting bullet wounds in the mic
If ya curse me, it aint no mercy
Give him a autopsy, killed by a verse of meI took a kid and cut off his eyelid
Kill him slow so he could see what I did
And if he dont understand what I said
Im pushing his eyeballs way to the back of his head
So he can see what hes getting into
A part of the mind that he never been through
A journey is coming 'cuz ya getting sent to
A place harder to find but its all in the mentalI ran a brain scan to locate his game plan
When Im through with his brain he aint the same, man
Did he lose his mind or lost in his mind
But this aint the lost and found because ya cant find
Your foundation coasting, your mind is
Drifting, in slow motion frozenLooks like another murder at the Mardi grass, B
Too late to send out a search party
Once ya out of ya head then ya cant get back
I give em a map, but he still get trapped, so
Prepare the chamber, the tortures coming up
Trip through the mind, at the end youll find its the punisherKill em againDangerous rhymes performed like surgery
Cuts so deep youll be bleeding burgundy
My intellect wrecks and disconnects your cerebral cortex
Your cerebellum is next
Your conscience becomes sub-conscious
Soon your response is nonsenseThe last words are blurred mumbled then slurred
Then your verbs are no longer heard
You get your lung fried so good youre tongue-tied
He couldnt swing or hang so he hung till he died
Reincarnate him and kill him again again and again gain and again
I leave him in the mausoleum so you can see himI got a dead M Cing museum
When I create em, I cremate em and complicate em
You cant save em theres no ultamatum
Mics lay around full of ashes with the victims name in slashes
Got a long list and Im a get every one of ya
Beware of the punisherThen Im a kill em again
Wake em up kill em again
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Это интересно:Они никогда не были в мейнстриме, но в течение так называемого золотого века рэп-музыки конца 80-х годов Eric B. & Rakim почти повсеместно были признаны главной DJ/MC командой в хип-хопе. Мало того, что у них была превосходная и индивидуальная техника, каждый из них представлял абсолютное состояние искусства, отражённое в их мастерстве. Eric B. был чрезвычайно влиятельным ди-джеем... продолжение
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