Lord Cyborg - Canibus

Lord Cyborg - Canibus

Год
2022
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
250920

Nedan finns texten till låten Lord Cyborg , artist - Canibus med översättning

Låttexten " Lord Cyborg "

Originaltext med översättning

Lord Cyborg

Canibus

Good morning, top of the day

I oxygenate with coffee and omelette steak

Then I decarboxylate

Pull a stocking down over my face

Tuck that thing in the waist

Meet you downstairs at the gate

They say the brown-tailed squirrel

Is entitled to lessen this world

I find it hard to respect those words

Tonic subdominant dominant

Influence beta vocal and beat moderate

While still placing my voice on top of it

(Are you a philosopher?)

Yes, I think very deeply

In fact, alkaline hydrolysis exists

When you come to terms with that

Your blood will be tapped

From biosludge in a vat

And your world will collapse

V&ires want blood

And pseudo-scientists want biosludge

Basic Instructions Before B.I.B.L.E.

Club

The pillars of justice

Crushed to dust by a nigga with musket

They handcuffed him 'cause he spit with substance

Ask around, he ain’t nothin' to fuck with

Or be in love with

Them handcuffs is like titanium cufflings

Verily, verily I say unto you

Microphone check 1, 2, 1, 2

Go 'head, claim that baggage

Delta Strike Force package

My drones over traffic cause accidents to happen

You must be reading my mind

He a one man machine that rhyme

A baby doberman eating at your spine

Beginning to feed off your insides

If I was you I wouldn’t think twice

The main concern is to preserve life

If I was you?

Play nice, bruh, don’t be mean

I cried watching what happened to behind the scenes?

gene?

299 days later I walked in the bodega

Wearing gold plated Ray-Ban Aviators

Rap don’t prove you great

I show you how catastrophe taste

Throw battery acid in your face

The Lawnmower Man with motorized hands

My hydraulics crush hydrogen tanks and make a thug dance

No cap, I called Lord Cyborg on the map

He ain’t no hip hop cop, he got a badge for rap

308 unique angle of attack

That yellow-bellied rat just shot him in the back

Now you got a malfunctioning backpack

In zero gravity, how the fuck you gon' get back

Yo to go collect all his plaques

I never thought of that

But I’ma have to go with «no, thanks»

I got a certified postage letter

From the globalists on my dresser

And I ain’t gon' never open it

They want my Infinity check

I signed an NDA with the Senator

14 years later we see the release

Of something suspiciously similar

They stole my shit

Look at all them flows I spit

I’m multidisciplinary, yet nothing could’a prepared me

For what I experienced in the rap game summarily

Verily, verily I say unto you

Microphone check 1, 2, 1, 2

Verily, verily I say unto you

I watched it all happen from the telecom room

In plain view I saw Metatron under a full moon

With the Sephiroth in his crew eating energon cubes

The Lord Cyborg’s blackball is atrocious

The interview with Joe Rogan got zero promotion

Dr. Malone had him open

I was in the background coachin' him

Dewey Cooper the Black Kobra and TJ was chokin' him

Had him tappin' out all over the linoleum

Then Don Corleone got Covid again

Every day occurrences like this

Are circumstantial adverses

That get perverted into a burden

Holographic indigenous camouflage projection

A weapon system we generally use for our protection

Poetry marginal margin, now that’s what I’m talkin'

If I’m flyin' in a Black Hawk, that’s what I’m squawkin'

100,000 bars and runnin', keep marchin'

I don’t answer the phone, I don’t care who callin'

The bad boy a good talk

Kamayamaya him a boss

That’s him layin' in the Himalayan salt

Blessed the man with heart

Where beautiful things are

Barefoot before God prayin' in the park

Lamb shish kebab, wolf gang, murder mouth in a synagogue

50 bars, Cappadonna — Winter Warz

Master Builder Bus, the group I’m a member of

We came to free the hip hop prisoners

And lift your spirit up

3rd eye live it up

The microphone is a good listener

Verily, verily I say unto you

Microphone check 1, 2, 1, 2

I massage my mustache with Lemon &Bergamot from a glass

A thick fog develops from hot gas

My Jamaican grandma gon' whoop your ass

'Cause you ate the last dumpling out the pot, dumbass

Verily, verily I say unto you

Microphone check 2, 0, 2, 2

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