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The One
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dj records science chopped chop urbano tombo industries sector homework
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The Illest Hip Hop Beats. Chopped Science from Homework Industries. One
As a dj, '98 was the real mark for the begining of what was set to become one of my greatest passions. I was aware that music was something special, just didnt thought it would be possible to compose and play it on my own. At the age of 18, started with the first mixes with the suport of my first project, Sector Urbano, and searched for every available information related with turtablism. As time went by, i found my interests for everything related with black music deepen and deepen; being hip hop, r&b, funk, soul, house, techno, rave... Since then, as on a dj area as much as on production, i've had the honour and the privilege to count with excelent names, nacional and international, and with them magnify the know how needed for a professional career.
Song Info
Genre
Beats • Rap
Charts
Peak #2,609
Peak in subgenre #848
Author
dj Tombo
Uploaded
March 15, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.0 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
“The One” Verse 1 Within an instant, Your very existence could be through, Should I choose to make you breathe what fishes is indigenous to, Now realizing it may take you a minute to shoot, So you might as well hand me the clip and I’ll have me give you a few, Who, M80 baby back up in your caboose, Swifter than tracks stars breaking records with gold sprittin shoes, You might get your hips bruised, if you ain’t hip to the rules, What’s the use, either way, you’re going to throw a fit when you lose, We don’t be sportin overalls and timberland boots, Just sneakers and khaki creased slacks and sinister views, I’ll flow wicked and blow bitches in two, You think your quick witted, but I spit just a little bit more sicker than you, I find solutions for confusing riddles and clues my wit is a blizzard frigid as Indians living in igloos, You finished fool, I hypnotized minds of innocent youth while a million of them follow behind and mimic my views Hook 1 Verse 2 M80 bitch, when I touch mics they explode, How’s the competition goin to rap with knives in their throats, I’ve earned the right to glow, No need for me to strike you a toast, I’d rather hop in front of the camera and start striking a pose, You probably hate the fact that I’m tight and I like to boast, Cuz you can barely hang with a few and I’m nicer than most, You need to cheat to defeat me, they call me vitamin bones, I might have been beat before, but I still fell right at home, On the stage or street, I’m ready for life on the road, If anyone asks I got people to see and rifles to load, And I don’t need no fancy gadgets with sniper scopes, Just an old fashioned shot gun with both pipes full, I communicate with the dead through insightfull notes, Is it considered ghost writin if you writing to ghosts, I don’t take advice, I decide for myself, despite what I’m told, You might get struck with a lighting bolt twice in a row, WOAH! Hook 2
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