Представляем точный текст композиции "Blood On The Wall" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Joe Budden . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Blood On The Wall» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Joe Budden передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.
Joe Budden - "Blood On The Wall"
Lyrics to Blood On The Wall : [Intro: Joe Budden] Whoo! (Uhh, welcome) Ohhh! Id like to welcome erybody, welcome erybody (yo y-yo yo yo) To the muhfuckin Padded Room (yo, y-yo, yo) [Joe Budden] How many niggaz fell victim to the streets Rest in peace young nigga, its a heaven for a G Id be a liar if I told you that I never thought of death My nigga, we the last ones left (l-look) l-look (l-look) I said - how many niggaz fell victim to the streets Rest in peace young nigga, its a heaven for Id be a liar if I told you that I never thought of death (l-look look) My nigga, we the last ones left; but life goes on And I aint gon stop til a nigga see blood on the wall! L-look, look, look, look Maybe it started with the rims on the whip Uh, I lost the Hummer, push the Benz through the strip But Ill swim with the fish before I lend niggaz shit Cause personally, they aint worth the phlegm that I spit Thats why, sometimes I think the ends comin quick My old ass father shot twins out his dick So, if they so happen to come out without a older brother Wont be alone cause comin up at least theyll have each other At least theyll one another cause lifes a muhfucker But while Im here my only job is not to see em suffer Through dope boys, shootouts, stick-ups and undercovers The world is full of suckers but dont worry, Im your buffer Buffer, like I shoulda been for BJ Well he never listened to nothin we say (It was) half past 12, midnight on a weekday Not even 20 hours past his release date, we stay This nigga hit him up four times, one kick the heart And that kicked my heart Call his pops, niggaz pick the phone up So he can come find his son lyin in his own (blood) blood On the block that we ran through House we grew up in, corner we would post on Shot dead in front of niggaz we would be with But how the fuck nobody see shit' (nigga) Its on there to be a brother to his brother lucky Cause in the belly of the beast I know this shit get ugly Get on my knees and have a convo with the Lord above me Maybe sometimes I hear him wrong, I think he sayin "Fuck me" Only he could judge me, care less what they thinkin of me Cause honestly Id be aight if no one ever love me (love me) I write "I only fear Joe" in blood Smeared slow on my brain by my earlobe (earlobe) And I aint gon stop til a nigga see blood on the wall! Y-yo, yo, yo All I tried do is raise the bar See my, weeks is scabbed up, days are scarred Still I love to see a muhfucker hate from far More they talk bout me the more I pray for yall I mean, I dont get how Prodigy gon acknowledge me When the nigga bout as big as an apostrophe (ohh!) For him to possibly think that he is hot as me is far from a prophecy, its more like a mockery Used to be hip-hop to me, fore you bombarded me with everything ass like side of me has gotta be drugs Four-fifths and snubs, whats that about' Nigga you cant lift the guns that you rappin bout But real talk, I cant front on your old shit Now you just old as shit! Not old and sick Stead of holdin my dick, heres a better way (dawg) Never mind me, worry about your Medicaid ... Shits so unfair Nigga beats carried your ass most of your career Wanna blog, heres a reason - I FUCKS "Murda Music" Anybody ever dissed this nigga is still breathin Jay-Z, Saigon, Nas already peeled him 2Pac, he aint alive but you aint kill him 50 signs the bum only cause where he was from Put his stamp on a nigga and still nobody feels him Not a murderer, a gangsta, robber Washed up 90s nigga, now a gangsta blogger Me that, underground flow strike like the pound blow Your sounds old, not even worth a download I would have niggaz hunt you like a hounds nose Problem is you pussy, the whole town knows So why let the body count grow for some fiend-out nigga now starrin in a clown show (clown show) And I aint gon stop til a nigga see blood on the wall! [ Blood On The Wall Lyrics ]
Содержание трека помогает не только запомнить любимые строки, но и ощутить связь с Joe Budden. Возможно, вы заметите, как лирика «Blood On The Wall» перекликается с вашим опытом, или найдёте ответы на давние вопросы. Эта страница создана для ценителей музыки: здесь вы сохраните текст для личного использования, поделитесь им с друзьями или используете в творчестве. Погружайтесь в мир слов композиции «Blood On The Wall» — каждая строчка здесь обретает новый смысл.