Weary Eyes - Wu-Syndicate

Weary Eyes - Wu-Syndicate

Год
1999
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
299020

Nedan finns texten till låten Weary Eyes , artist - Wu-Syndicate med översättning

Låttexten " Weary Eyes "

Originaltext med översättning

Weary Eyes

Wu-Syndicate

I spark an L to a sunset meditatin

Ill thoughts got my heart racin, chest with a mason

Same blocks, ATF rush spots cats bubble humbly

I’m hungry, Killa Bee Trilogy triumphantly

Hammer head, dart allignment, work consignment

Keep your ears open for new assignments

Ride with the livest, frontline rhyme thats

Interchangeable

Mastermind, blaze in the range, it’s unexplainable

Against The Grain, crown prince of the purple rain

No games dunn, runnin the same, bickin the lane

Ice drain shoot the rest of the pain, I’m reckless

Coressing the flame, addressing the strange

It’s Wu-Tang

Chorus:

Close your weary eyes and drift away, It’s alright

Close your weary eyes and drift away, It’s alright

When I got the news, my heart dropped down to my dick

Timin was fucked up, right around the time we’d all be rich

New with tricks, we went through Wu-Syndicate, Wu ventelists

Cop a mansion on these other land where war’s parentless

Anyway, vision clear, Michaelangelo destined to blow

And a trio with Myalan' and Joe

I’m at your grave site, midnight ritual, candlelight

Heard she set you up with spite, she cop the ninja your bike

I’m having flashbacks of Henney, jetskis blasting semi’s together

We possessed the chemistry, make history eventually

The thought of goin to penitentiary

Made his mom break down at the wake mentally

Right now its chilly and cloudy days

Now I’m chillin with Shaq in LA

I make sure D, make a sake in princeway

Yo its war states bein breeded through the streets of V. A

Close your eyes mom your legacy will never fade away

Drift away.

Eh yo son your Jack ringin, «What up?

Who this?»

«Jakes just knocked your bitch», «Word, no shit»

Now my first thoughts is the feds had my phone tapped

Told her don’t talk in the Range with the bike rack

Jakes might be up on the whip

Oh she forgot to tuck the hero’n up under her tit

What if she asked about the ice that I put on her wrist?

I taught my chick Earth lessons, nah son she won’t snitch

Remember times I went to war and she brought extra clips

Jack sayin low cell, need to charge up the chip

Hit me back at the lab, gotta handle this quick

I roll with mob cats who bubble outlets

Legacy live 500 years like Vinnie’s nest

Evil scientist, now I manifest with golden flesh

Felony paragraphs, dead on polygraph, vision a bloodpath

Black guillotines, banded like King Luis the 16th

Before you blink, Napoleon, lock to your wife and tie her man

Executioner, poetic conspiracy of Lucifer

Beef come for real, there’s no tellin what I do to ya

Might wrap you in plastic, ship you off the Jupiter

Boys, I roll with Wu-Syndicate sharpshooters

Who smuggle coke in parachuters

Politic in silence like J Edgar Hoover

To leave to Switzerland, type maneuvers

Through the eyes of an everyday, street veteran

Chased for Presidents, throw up the hands, blood on my Timbs

Modern lights got your frame bent

Myalansky, fantasy, crash route, the certified member

Ask permission before you kill 'em, you’re nameless

UFO’s, domes, the strangest invasion

The project block locked by pavement

Nikki Barnes, Donna Her’on, courageous, the payment

Many attempts but couldn’t save 'im

Blood got my shirt stainin, fuck these pussy-ass rap cats

Can’t hang with this shit, Wu-Syndicate, we livin this

Fuck the judge, the president, never show no love for my residence

My niggas deal embezzlement

D’s and IV’s, unlimited CC’s, roll up your long sleeves

We in it to win it, Wu-Syndicate snatch penants

Label rap menace, real cats feel it, fuck with the merciless

Stash mills, the pack impact, we back slap cats to windmills

Fully loaded clips, crunch time, kings of VA

Bustin twin nines, we global pollyin

World renowned, thunder pound round

Shells bounce off the Wally moccasins

Chessboxin with a marksman, high states crossin

Fuck the law man, it’s arson, straight up arson

What?

Flamin y’all niggas, fuck that

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