lirik lagu d-lo - just 2 let u kno
[verse 1]:
vivid images appearing in my spiritous
envision a village taking in lines so ambiguous and limitless
vibrating all ligaments, got you like a hypnotist
a recipe of sentences and wickedness
an incubus, found a state of elevation
always was a victim of my own imagination
packing atoms in the bas-m-nt
my sword stays adjacent
cutting in minds and filling them with spoken statements
ask me what’s cooking and i’ll tell you it’s a wrap
cheese, stakes, bunions, -ssumptions and that
take it back to when it was rap further than black
imperial thoughts all wrapped in a murderous track
sky high and i’m living sci-fi, you’re only wanting to crown me that’s for all you wise guys
scattered scribbles dangling on these pages
stages and phases, taking my soul to different places
out my body and i’m out to body
any man that stands with a mic so i guess that’s everybody
who you wanna try and flex with? no better than the next kid
i got bars you know i always stay connected
small talk is not my forte, straight to the point
in and out i ain’t stopping on no foreplay
if the beats sweet i’m moving my feet, i even got em bumping when i’m talking in my sleep
my flow ain’t no mainstream
bozo’s, hooligans get my pen d-mn n-gga who you tryna fool again?
it’s a different specimen, sending messages
open up your mind and just let em in
emcee am i, people call me dlo
soon gonna be stacking that queso and peso
so please know
i ain’t stopping for half of them
rock on the mic, n0ble park down to pakenham
(skit):
boy, just be yourself
people don’t like you if you being yourself, f-ck em
[verse 2]:
h-llo, it is i
back again, packing them a ki of lines no i’m never slacking them
snow noses, hocus pocus
giving birth to crack addicts separate them from my lines like moses
woop woop!
that’s the sound of the ill troops
got our sh-t on repeat till your f-cking ear loops
always locked and loaded, ready to blast
major disas leave you worrying about your past
what goes around comes around behind your -ss like casper
sweaty palms for you and your favourite rapper
the chase is on n-gga like a runway slave
emcees who slept today must be swept away!
what? n-gga, n-gga, n-gga!
(skit):
point i’m tryna tell you son is be yourself
if people don’t like you if you’re being yourself
f-ck em, f-ck em
f-ck em up against the wall, with handcuffs on
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