paroles de chanson theme from flo jack - m-flo

※No, you know, tomorrow won′t come so soon,
I gotta get through to you
No, you know, tomorrow won't come so soon,
I gotta make that move
No, you know, tomorrow won′t come so soon,
It'ssomethin' I′ve gotta do
No, you know, tomorrow won′t come so soon,
I gotta get through to you※

Featuring the staunch lyricist,
The verbiage with turbulance supernatural,
The vertebrate, sure to lift roof tops
The journalist, correctin' y′all with rhetorics, like litmus,
Test y'all no need to withdraw, we gold medalists
Make the people go apes, as I locate
Choice vocabulary, to rotate bodies, my head aches,
For mistaken ones receiving blatant puns, live and direct,
From Verbal′s high maintenance poetry...
MC's best lo and be-hold
I know you peepin this like key-holes, when I freak flows
Wack shows get vetoed, propellin′ 'em to outter limits
Thoughts developin', light ′em up like filaments,
At late night like Letterman
David, I make statements, aiming directly
With the gift that God sent me, no doubt it′s strictly
The truth engulf avalanche with impulse,
Bigger than what, tenfold, we the vigilantes
With bent bows, you know?

(※くり返し)

Late midnight run, sometimes I feel so blue
I pass one hundred, like I never knew
I close my eyes, pretended that you are here, yeh
And let these simple words flow till you disappear.

I establish an order in this sector,
Guardian angel reflect the light, lyrically,
I own the mic, you slept, the demo tape that
You ejected haunt you, return you want to,
Hand with the one you dissed before and slander
Presently and conjure up some hallucination,
Identify the stations where my vocal's heard count
The total verbs, you be flipping at the load of words
My destiny′s set pre-naturally, forget Maybelline,
I got no maybe's running more slow, than your
Nose without, antihistamine,
I′m in the future, MC's who misdemean,
Is left to be history so who′d ya
Think you spittin' at, I represent a different map
Hip Hop diplomat, iceberg
You seeing the tip of that, see right through ya
Like the original flo-jack God-glorifying
Poor spiritual aristocrat remain anonymous,
My lyrics outfit astronomers air-tight apparels,
Third commandment for idolaters

(※くり返し)

I've been wondering what′s gotten into me
Those sweet words are hard to believe
Stop playing games and let me let you know
It ain′t just what you show but why you show this.
「Verbal flow like there's no tomorrow.」

Yo let me constellate and track with verbiage
I extract expect no less but maximum
The cat′s be done with this illness I contact
I commit the act of subtraction
On wack ones even snatch crumbs,
On financially bad months, yo you'd be messing
With the rare specimen,
Whose vision is endangered just
Cause you ancient and tangent off the track
While I be ever-changing you wonder,
Where all these thoughts come from Verbal,
The mind-toucha, enveloping you like Won ton,
As I′m rhyming like it was vomit, profusely,
Pardon the language, now excuse me
As I enter the my archives and choose the methods by
Which to carry out, whether
By land or aerial cause this kid cannot be
Stereo-typed, got more brothers than
Mario ripe for harvest, new-jack,
But not a novice call this the hip hop fan,
Blowing away emcees like sawdust
I promise, I ain't your average artist,
My thought is looking to God for direction,
And not to goddesses.

Come closer look and see
Is this Reality
Believe and truth shall set you free
Unchained this soul of mine
To cross this great divide
Through endless ages and
Through time

(※くり返し)