paroles de chanson Stand By - Diabolic

This is hiphop, get your muthafucking hands high!
Get 'em up! Get 'em up!
One's for the money, y'all, two's for the show, in fact
Three's for the loaded gat you hold when you wrote your raps
I ain't holding back no more, if your flow is wack
I'm flying off the handle like the barrel from a broken bat
Anybody popping slick shit's getting helicopter lifted
To the top of district hospitals for a doctor visit
'Bolic's optimistic's opposite: apocalyptic
Brainstorm making rain drop acidic toxic liquid
I'll knock you bitches into next week with a haymaker
And straight-razor your face when you land seven days later
I said pray your soul to keep when you go to sleep
But you sold the lease on your own beliefs like Roman priests
You probably told the beast Hip-Hop needs it's own police
To patrol the streets and shows whenever something dope's released
But the navy's total fleet here storming a local beach
Told to breach my home, couldn't get me out the zone I've reached

Make some muthafucking noise, scream like you never do
Let them know we here, punch the muthafucka next to you
Roll something, light it up, guzzle what's inside your cup
Hold up, wait a minute, I don't think you hype enough!
Who don't give a fuck now? Living like they can't die
I said get your hands high, reach them for the damn sky
People get them up now, you don't gotta ask why
I said get your hands high!
Two, stand by

Store my rhymes cryogenically for an entire century
And even science then'll be baffled by the chemistry
The rapid rise in energy's analyzed forensically
To fathom why this natural high's trapped inside your memory
So why do rappers lie, glamorizing weaponry?
Getting away with murder like the cat who's driving Kennedy
I'll have your lives in jeopardy, receiving intravenous fluid
Until the thieves I'm crew with pull the plug from your breathing unit
I peeped the blueprint of your music, every bar and measure
Planting demo charges to tear apart the architecture
My squad marched together through the arctic weather
In the hardest sector and left them marked forever like a Scarlet Letter
Scar a veteran for meddling in our endeavors
So enjoy getting tarred and feathered while your arms are severed
Y'all will never stop this moon out the boonies
Who spits more jewels out than that dude Mouth in Goonies

Pray to god when you go to mass that someone that I know will slash
Your throat with the broken glass from a na broke in half
I'm Jehova's wrath, but worse than the pope in Catholic church
Christening the Antichrist while he's soaked in afterbirth
Half a verse got you spacing out like Captain Kirk
'Til I throw you back to earth and leave you miles below the grass and dirt
The gat'll burst at the first cat I face, y'all
And that's why you sto respond, like Magic 8 Balls
Saint Paul, the Great Wall, New York is the Norwegians
Fuck what they force-feeding, I'll upchuck in a board meeting
Four seasons, year-round, spitting that blue magic
And wouldn't wear down in a triple fat goose jacket
Can pull ratchets like mechanics, I got screws loose
But fuck a deuce-deuce, I'll drop two nukes through your moon-roof
And it's fool-proof, so I'ma act a fool like Raul Duke
With two turntables and a mic, that's my true roots