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"Necro"
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название:
автор:
жанры: hip-hop
альбомы: Die!
Brutalized
автор:
Necro
жанры: hip-hop
альбомы: Die!
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 4.9 / 855 просмотров
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[Intro: Clip from Out For Justice] - I’ve noticed a lot of boxing memorabilia. We got some gloves over here. Pictures everywhere. Who’s the boxer? - Me - You’re the boxer? - Yeah - You a tough guy? - Yeah, tough enough - Really? What could you do? - To you? - Yeah You getting brutalized! (Verse one) I’m a street fighter like M. Bison I might bite you like Tyson, trife with a license Put ice on the cut, doctors’ll be splicing it up Rocky snuffed right to the gut I’m a Spartan, start beef my fists will harden You punch like a girl but you ain’t Christy Martin You get no love, hit you with no gloves Duff you like sure enough shove you no one’s above My thunder and lightning, your eyes sting No wonder you need Visine, not surprising, London Prize Ring You felt were ill, your black belt ain’t shit When you’re attacked in your jail cell you fainted While you’re pumping dope in you I’m jumping rope There’s no hope for you dope, chump, jealous lazy bum No matter son I’m training whether it’s sunny or raining Like Sonny I’m reigning, you Patterson (Chorus) You realise when I close up your two eyes you getting brutalized Size you up, prize fight shit, die what, you getting brutalized Fake tough guys break and snuff no compromise, you getting brutalized Size ain’t shit, big guys victimized too, you getting brutalized (Verse two) Yo I laugh at you fronters, a no-skill rider You ain’t no ill fighter, you telegraph punches Shots thrown from the hip your dome split open Hemotobin, you should’ve known your shit Defence techniques from a knuckle-bone blitz Your knees buckle you’re weak sucker, don’t snitch Deal with it, real with it, it’ll heal quick Then I’ll run up on you again and bust open your shit Twice, three times, quadruple, rip apart pupils Kick like marsupials hard and brutal Then watch how we get busy, you left dizzy Left right hook where is he? Side step and you miss me Weapon the rugged ? for myself Thug it, militants, weapons, our hands deadly, slug it out You’re bugging out, drugged up, get knocked out Your mouth plugged up with stitches, you’re ugly now (Chorus)
Это интересно:Родился и рос Ron Braunstein на неприветливых улицах Бруклина, а в свободное время занимался музыкой (и как все-таки здорово, что ему не подарили скрипку). Потихоньку интерес к ней перешел в практическое русло. Произошло это примерно в возрасте 11-ти лет. Белому еврейскому мальчику из бедной семьи пришлись по духу такие группы как Sepultura, Napalm Death и Obituary.... продолжение
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