lirik lagu qwel & kip killagain - b.rainwashing
[intro: qwel (spoken)]
“yo, i love that rubber duckie
yo, for sho’
aw man, that sh-t was bangin’
crazy, deep sh-t, right?
you know what i’m saying?
when you couldn’t think of nothin’ to say, you say ‘duckie’
you feel me, wes?”
[verse 1: qwel]
there will be wars, yeah, and rumors of wars
you know that god feeds the birds to sing of justice in store
the thing is trusted in the truth, some put their faith in the stars
some put their faith in their hate, some love the faith in their scars
it’s hard to make it all make sense, we press our face through the bars
that hold the coated, frozen souls that break our grace into shards
we shape our shards into keys, and charge the gates and the guards
but [“we negating the gods” or “we the gates to the guards”]? that make it so easy to hate
‘take it easy’, said the tv today
and tomorrow i bet, and that’d bar our faith to put our all in the net
or fall and calling it fate
the world around us burning ball, and y’all ain’t balling a thing
but sanging, hanging from this thread and steady gnawing the string
with all the strain from all the weight he gained, you’re all in the way
it takes an individual truly unique now to fall into place
and if it ain’t about the s-x, y’all, it’s all about race
and y’all see these rappers acting [lact]? and oughta be shamed
the keeper’s fire cracker snapping off, it brought him his fame
and after all the crack and smack he slung, he oughta be straight
is what i figures, but he still stick it to an audio tape
it’s hard to make it all make sense, we press our face to the gl-ss
to see it foggy from our breath, the freshest dressed in the cl-ss
a sh-tty archer can aim his audience, a guess and a blast
and at last, i mean, at least, whatever gets in its path
we got them che guevara t-shirts and now rebellion has p-ssed
we got the gleaming jesus pieces and now whatever get [asked]?
we got degrees to see the seas, thinking the weather will p-ss
and in a blink, we got so clever, yeah whatever, be glad
and grab a sheet and go to sleep, y’all, don’t ever look back
if it’s the american dream we seek, it’s all in a nap’
the ripples, and nipples, [it hipples, and gripples?], and triples
and calling it rap
don’t make me vomit upon your front and nauseous all in the back
it’s hard to make it all make sense, we press our face to the front
to see the teacher’s babbling apples, sit on top of his junk
but not for nothing, ask a question, get a quack from a duck
the babysitter can see your number cause it’s taxes for lunch
it’s just a practice for the m-sses, get a p-ss to get dumb
to slumber back or babble back his facts, not backing it up
it’s hard to make it all make sense like fenced in pens that we’re put in
it’s hard to make it all make sense cause it’s nonsense – it shouldn’t
hard to make it make sense – the dotted lines, the columbines
combine with flossy glossy crosses and the dollar signs
the fathers dying, and all the lying – it’s the bottom line
the bottom line… it’s just the bottom line…
[outro: qwel (spoken)]
“i love that duckie, man that sh-t was so raw
you know what i’m saying?
that [free’un mane]?
qwell kinda fell off with that freezer burner
you know what i’m saying?
i know he’s trying to do the winter
you know what i’m saying?
but the winter man, ain’t n0body trying to
chi-city winter slushy, sleety, nasty
knee feet deep”
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