Musical Stampede Songtext
von Looptroop Rockers
Musical Stampede Songtext
"Chorus
Whatever I say over the beat it′s a hit cus it's hot./ However I sound better believe that it′s hip to the hop./ However you feel all my peops just lick off a shot./ Whatever you do Embee make sure the shit don't stop'
It′s murder on the dance floor. Call the paramedics!/
Right now, or you won′t live to regret it./
Outline the whole crowd in chalk when I spit talk./
Slidin' through all the blood like a crip walk./
Yeah, a lame ass metaphor,/
But say it better or shut the fuck up,/
Cus like my man said: It′s all about who kicks the lamest shit,/
And gets away with it. Fool./
In this rap I'm all about havin′ some fun with it,/
And burn till there's no return like capital punishment./
Promoe - on your FM dial,/
With Looptroop - mother effin′ styles./
From Sweden. Bleedin' all over the cut./
Female emcees I spread semen all over your butt,/
Male emcees I knock out screamin' over you: What?/
You must be dreamin′ thinkin′ you can fuck/
With the Promoe - ahead of all heads,/
The Promoe - a dread among bald heads./
With more hair and beard than you bargained for./
Don't f around cus my squad is raw./
It′s Looptroop - the click is full proof./
Looptroop - too thick to shoot through./
Bullets bouncin' off the boulevard to the beat./
With my heart to the street man I′m hard to defeat./
Without Embee you ain't fuckin′ with me./
Without 10 G's you ain't fuckin′ with him./
Without him - no hits - you ain′t makin' a fuckin′ cent,/
So fuckin' with us don′t make no motherfuckin' sense motherfucker!
Chorus
This goes out to all of those who been oppressed for too long/
And don′t know where they belong./
This goes out to all my people who had enough/
Of the chains and handcuffs./ (x2)
Alright we're smaller than you but we're more than you,/
So we move faster, eat you whole before you shoot yo./
No time to gaze, bun them evil acts they do./
They know my face so run before they catch you too./
You don′t want that, trust me, I′ve been to hell and back/
But if you get caught remember to tell them that/
This music don't back for nobody, retreat for nothin′/
Cus it's the pulse of all the people strugglin′/
The lifeline for the hopeless, the eyes of the blind,/
The underworld communication of our time/
So rise and shine, they can't eliminate the messages./
Even if they kill us can′t get us cus'
Chorus
Embee did it again! - Haters no like/
But they gotta bounce to it cus the show's so tight/
Turn up the volume ′til the beat make the vinyl skip!/
No funny binniz, I repeat, we ain′t signing shit!/
Schlooks stay young and angry, horny, hungry, drunk and high/
Sex junkies now. /
But I, don't want no medecine, want you to let me in/
Mamita call him, tell him that you found a better friend!/
Your moms recommend, - You stay away from them!/
But I don′t blame you for kickin it with the champion./
From the dragons den - Waxkabinetten!/
Spit fire at your management and tying up your president./
I represent DVSG'z, cop any previous release,/
And recognize game, we feeding the streets/
That musical stampede, follow my lead,/
Put your fist up in the air, and let em know who we be!
Chorus
"
Whatever I say over the beat it′s a hit cus it's hot./ However I sound better believe that it′s hip to the hop./ However you feel all my peops just lick off a shot./ Whatever you do Embee make sure the shit don't stop'
It′s murder on the dance floor. Call the paramedics!/
Right now, or you won′t live to regret it./
Outline the whole crowd in chalk when I spit talk./
Slidin' through all the blood like a crip walk./
Yeah, a lame ass metaphor,/
But say it better or shut the fuck up,/
Cus like my man said: It′s all about who kicks the lamest shit,/
And gets away with it. Fool./
In this rap I'm all about havin′ some fun with it,/
And burn till there's no return like capital punishment./
Promoe - on your FM dial,/
With Looptroop - mother effin′ styles./
From Sweden. Bleedin' all over the cut./
Female emcees I spread semen all over your butt,/
Male emcees I knock out screamin' over you: What?/
You must be dreamin′ thinkin′ you can fuck/
With the Promoe - ahead of all heads,/
The Promoe - a dread among bald heads./
With more hair and beard than you bargained for./
Don't f around cus my squad is raw./
It′s Looptroop - the click is full proof./
Looptroop - too thick to shoot through./
Bullets bouncin' off the boulevard to the beat./
With my heart to the street man I′m hard to defeat./
Without Embee you ain't fuckin′ with me./
Without 10 G's you ain't fuckin′ with him./
Without him - no hits - you ain′t makin' a fuckin′ cent,/
So fuckin' with us don′t make no motherfuckin' sense motherfucker!
Chorus
This goes out to all of those who been oppressed for too long/
And don′t know where they belong./
This goes out to all my people who had enough/
Of the chains and handcuffs./ (x2)
Alright we're smaller than you but we're more than you,/
So we move faster, eat you whole before you shoot yo./
No time to gaze, bun them evil acts they do./
They know my face so run before they catch you too./
You don′t want that, trust me, I′ve been to hell and back/
But if you get caught remember to tell them that/
This music don't back for nobody, retreat for nothin′/
Cus it's the pulse of all the people strugglin′/
The lifeline for the hopeless, the eyes of the blind,/
The underworld communication of our time/
So rise and shine, they can't eliminate the messages./
Even if they kill us can′t get us cus'
Chorus
Embee did it again! - Haters no like/
But they gotta bounce to it cus the show's so tight/
Turn up the volume ′til the beat make the vinyl skip!/
No funny binniz, I repeat, we ain′t signing shit!/
Schlooks stay young and angry, horny, hungry, drunk and high/
Sex junkies now. /
But I, don't want no medecine, want you to let me in/
Mamita call him, tell him that you found a better friend!/
Your moms recommend, - You stay away from them!/
But I don′t blame you for kickin it with the champion./
From the dragons den - Waxkabinetten!/
Spit fire at your management and tying up your president./
I represent DVSG'z, cop any previous release,/
And recognize game, we feeding the streets/
That musical stampede, follow my lead,/
Put your fist up in the air, and let em know who we be!
Chorus
"
Writer(s): Magnus Bergkvist, Marten Nils Sebastian Edh, Mathias Rolf Erik Isen Lundh, Tommy Isacsson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com