Idioma Origen:
aw yeah, just gettin' warmed up in here
i'mma lay it down like this, yo
we didn't rush it
kick back and bubbled slow
didn't suck dick
hit gas and rumbled roads
now, can you hear this
magic grumble grow
we move like the drums
tic-tac and bumped a toe
spit facts with swift raps
untouchable with syntax
to bitchslap a slumber
with impact to hit past a Hubble probe
spin back to fit massive summer shows
(one, two, three, four...)
ill tunes, trip acid undertones
... that sit past the country's coast
what if after this batch the bubble blows
lord knows where the chit-chat
and mumble's stowed
thrust in the ringmaster's Thunderdome
... with big cats with Wonder Dough
but through all the mish-mash
i wonder, bro
with that shit
i predict tragic troubles so
i bring it back
to this patch and drummers know
make peace to whiplash
up under his dome
and pitch black with knick-knacks
i fumble flow to fit tracks
and this cracks the puzzle's code
and infact since slick chaps
have bummed me clothes
we're trailblazin' a lit path by jungle's glow
so with a spliff ...
i sit back in the Bliss bachelor's bungalow
direct from the shit shack
at Lover's Grove
i sit back with a six-pack and punch a cone
'cause this lad will
bring back a bucket-load
... thick hash
and zigzags on buffaloes
i twist raps, i flip raps, you f**kin' know
so kick back, Big Macka's comin' home
no rich rags, i kick back
so it's touch and go
(one, two, three, four...)
so splish splash, click clack
let's bust a flow
(aw yeah...)
yo, when i start to get busy
I'm off from Sin City
there's no turning back
once Macka's on the track
i'm like Jack Frost
with a heatwave of new shit
(one, two, three, four...)
so back off as i reclaim this music
yo, I'mma tell it how it is
this is B.E.I. and i ain't
sellin' out for shit, so
now you know who
spits the raw sound
and taught these kids
how to kick the door down
hours in the air, run for cover
this world loves hatin'
as the young may suffer
it's like there's a
huge hunt for butter
but, funny thing is we
all try to hunt for cover
(one, two, three, four...
crank this bitch! it's BNE... BNE...)
Idioma Destino:
aw yeah, just gettin' warmed up in here
i'mma lay it down like this, yo
we didn't rush it
kick back and bubbled slow
didn't suck dick
hit gas and rumbled roads
now, can you hear this
magic grumble grow
we move like the drums
tic-tac and bumped a toe
spit facts with swift raps
untouchable with syntax
to bitchslap a slumber
with impact to hit past a Hubble probe
spin back to fit massive summer shows
(one, two, three, four...)
ill tunes, trip acid undertones
... that sit past the country's coast
what if after this batch the bubble blows
lord knows where the chit-chat
and mumble's stowed
thrust in the ringmaster's Thunderdome
... with big cats with Wonder Dough
but through all the mish-mash
i wonder, bro
with that shit
i predict tragic troubles so
i bring it back
to this patch and drummers know
make peace to whiplash
up under his dome
and pitch black with knick-knacks
i fumble flow to fit tracks
and this cracks the puzzle's code
and infact since slick chaps
have bummed me clothes
we're trailblazin' a lit path by jungle's glow
so with a spliff ...
i sit back in the Bliss bachelor's bungalow
direct from the shit shack
at Lover's Grove
i sit back with a six-pack and punch a cone
'cause this lad will
bring back a bucket-load
... thick hash
and zigzags on buffaloes
i twist raps, i flip raps, you f**kin' know
so kick back, Big Macka's comin' home
no rich rags, i kick back
so it's touch and go
(one, two, three, four...)
so splish splash, click clack
let's bust a flow
(aw yeah...)
yo, when i start to get busy
I'm off from Sin City
there's no turning back
once Macka's on the track
i'm like Jack Frost
with a heatwave of new shit
(one, two, three, four...)
so back off as i reclaim this music
yo, I'mma tell it how it is
this is B.E.I. and i ain't
sellin' out for shit, so
now you know who
spits the raw sound
and taught these kids
how to kick the door down
hours in the air, run for cover
this world loves hatin'
as the young may suffer
it's like there's a
huge hunt for butter
but, funny thing is we
all try to hunt for cover
(one, two, three, four...
crank this bitch! it's BNE... BNE...)