| 作曲 : Reveille | |
| Yo, we about to twist this shit up right here(As we cross over into a new millennium) | |
| It might be to strong for some | |
| So I suggest you motherfuckers | |
| Buckle the fuck up(See what I'm saying?) | |
| Where you gonna hide? | |
| Rags to rags, how does stone turn to static? | |
| Its tragic, drop 'em like a bad force of habit | |
| Not dramatic traumatic got me turning in my sleep | |
| Pencil pushin' putos, motherfuck critiques | |
| No defeat, compete, never sleepn' never will | |
| And just like the real, | |
| I've entered my time to kill | |
| Climbing in the ring, | |
| I'm gonna wear away my doubt' | |
| Cause if I dug my own grave then | |
| I can dig myself out | |
| Come on, come on, check it, check it, check it | |
| Takers, fakers, barrel bottom scrapers | |
| Separating family from those phony money makers | |
| Papers, stuffed rolled and laced with a lesson | |
| Vapors graced so aftertaste is faced with a confession | |
| End of session blessin' first impressions stessin' thinking twice | |
| And blaming my aggressions on some other world's advice | |
| So slice, split, splice and pay the price that it brings | |
| But I can stand on my own, | |
| I don't need your strings | |
| I'm not fuckin' splitt | |
| I'm comin' out swingin', so heads be spinning | |
| Bring on the soup to keep the ear drums ringing | |
| I'm comin' out swingin', with ties unstringing | |
| Splitting up the frame for a whole new beginning | |
| I'm comin' out swingin' | |
| I've told too many lies, built too many walls | |
| Broken too many hearts, shed too many tears | |
| Burned too many bridges, taken too many falls | |
| Buried too many friends, | |
| I've buried too many fears | |
| Shits pumpin', body's are jumpin' | |
| Waiting for something or somebody | |
| Up in the party to get the head bumpin' | |
| Split it up, hit it up but get it up | |
| While I set it up, causing confusion, we wet it up | |
| From the drum tracks, guitars strum and high strung | |
| And fine tuned the time is soon so let it hum | |
| From the power lung, the hour come to make it happen | |
| Over the bother some bitches who wanna jack it up | |
| Track it up, pick it up, you better stick it up | |
| Dope shit all over the table, you gotta lick it up | |
| I'm comin' out swingin' | |
| I'm comin' out swingin' | |
| I'm comin' out | |
| I'm comin' out | |
| Motherfucker ha, ha, ha | |
| SplittFamily feuds and family ties | |
| Now you can sew'em shut but | |
| I see through your eyes | |
| Through the surface and through the lies | |
| And through your ability to hypnotize | |
| Now my road has spit and | |
| I can see no ends | |
| I've got angels wings mixed with plastic friends | |
| I got two paths to choose and | |
| I can't decide | |
| Too little, too late, two worlds divide | |
| And our worlds divide | |
| So better choose your side | |
| Split and our worlds divide |
| zuo qu : Reveille | |
| Yo, we about to twist this shit up right here As we cross over into a new millennium | |
| It might be to strong for some | |
| So I suggest you motherfuckers | |
| Buckle the fuck up See what I' m saying? | |
| Where you gonna hide? | |
| Rags to rags, how does stone turn to static? | |
| Its tragic, drop ' em like a bad force of habit | |
| Not dramatic traumatic got me turning in my sleep | |
| Pencil pushin' putos, motherfuck critiques | |
| No defeat, compete, never sleepn' never will | |
| And just like the real, | |
| I' ve entered my time to kill | |
| Climbing in the ring, | |
| I' m gonna wear away my doubt' | |
| Cause if I dug my own grave then | |
| I can dig myself out | |
| Come on, come on, check it, check it, check it | |
| Takers, fakers, barrel bottom scrapers | |
| Separating family from those phony money makers | |
| Papers, stuffed rolled and laced with a lesson | |
| Vapors graced so aftertaste is faced with a confession | |
| End of session blessin' first impressions stessin' thinking twice | |
| And blaming my aggressions on some other world' s advice | |
| So slice, split, splice and pay the price that it brings | |
| But I can stand on my own, | |
| I don' t need your strings | |
| I' m not fuckin' splitt | |
| I' m comin' out swingin', so heads be spinning | |
| Bring on the soup to keep the ear drums ringing | |
| I' m comin' out swingin', with ties unstringing | |
| Splitting up the frame for a whole new beginning | |
| I' m comin' out swingin' | |
| I' ve told too many lies, built too many walls | |
| Broken too many hearts, shed too many tears | |
| Burned too many bridges, taken too many falls | |
| Buried too many friends, | |
| I' ve buried too many fears | |
| Shits pumpin', body' s are jumpin' | |
| Waiting for something or somebody | |
| Up in the party to get the head bumpin' | |
| Split it up, hit it up but get it up | |
| While I set it up, causing confusion, we wet it up | |
| From the drum tracks, guitars strum and high strung | |
| And fine tuned the time is soon so let it hum | |
| From the power lung, the hour come to make it happen | |
| Over the bother some bitches who wanna jack it up | |
| Track it up, pick it up, you better stick it up | |
| Dope shit all over the table, you gotta lick it up | |
| I' m comin' out swingin' | |
| I' m comin' out swingin' | |
| I' m comin' out | |
| I' m comin' out | |
| Motherfucker ha, ha, ha | |
| SplittFamily feuds and family ties | |
| Now you can sew' em shut but | |
| I see through your eyes | |
| Through the surface and through the lies | |
| And through your ability to hypnotize | |
| Now my road has spit and | |
| I can see no ends | |
| I' ve got angels wings mixed with plastic friends | |
| I got two paths to choose and | |
| I can' t decide | |
| Too little, too late, two worlds divide | |
| And our worlds divide | |
| So better choose your side | |
| Split and our worlds divide |
| zuò qǔ : Reveille | |
| Yo, we about to twist this shit up right here As we cross over into a new millennium | |
| It might be to strong for some | |
| So I suggest you motherfuckers | |
| Buckle the fuck up See what I' m saying? | |
| Where you gonna hide? | |
| Rags to rags, how does stone turn to static? | |
| Its tragic, drop ' em like a bad force of habit | |
| Not dramatic traumatic got me turning in my sleep | |
| Pencil pushin' putos, motherfuck critiques | |
| No defeat, compete, never sleepn' never will | |
| And just like the real, | |
| I' ve entered my time to kill | |
| Climbing in the ring, | |
| I' m gonna wear away my doubt' | |
| Cause if I dug my own grave then | |
| I can dig myself out | |
| Come on, come on, check it, check it, check it | |
| Takers, fakers, barrel bottom scrapers | |
| Separating family from those phony money makers | |
| Papers, stuffed rolled and laced with a lesson | |
| Vapors graced so aftertaste is faced with a confession | |
| End of session blessin' first impressions stessin' thinking twice | |
| And blaming my aggressions on some other world' s advice | |
| So slice, split, splice and pay the price that it brings | |
| But I can stand on my own, | |
| I don' t need your strings | |
| I' m not fuckin' splitt | |
| I' m comin' out swingin', so heads be spinning | |
| Bring on the soup to keep the ear drums ringing | |
| I' m comin' out swingin', with ties unstringing | |
| Splitting up the frame for a whole new beginning | |
| I' m comin' out swingin' | |
| I' ve told too many lies, built too many walls | |
| Broken too many hearts, shed too many tears | |
| Burned too many bridges, taken too many falls | |
| Buried too many friends, | |
| I' ve buried too many fears | |
| Shits pumpin', body' s are jumpin' | |
| Waiting for something or somebody | |
| Up in the party to get the head bumpin' | |
| Split it up, hit it up but get it up | |
| While I set it up, causing confusion, we wet it up | |
| From the drum tracks, guitars strum and high strung | |
| And fine tuned the time is soon so let it hum | |
| From the power lung, the hour come to make it happen | |
| Over the bother some bitches who wanna jack it up | |
| Track it up, pick it up, you better stick it up | |
| Dope shit all over the table, you gotta lick it up | |
| I' m comin' out swingin' | |
| I' m comin' out swingin' | |
| I' m comin' out | |
| I' m comin' out | |
| Motherfucker ha, ha, ha | |
| SplittFamily feuds and family ties | |
| Now you can sew' em shut but | |
| I see through your eyes | |
| Through the surface and through the lies | |
| And through your ability to hypnotize | |
| Now my road has spit and | |
| I can see no ends | |
| I' ve got angels wings mixed with plastic friends | |
| I got two paths to choose and | |
| I can' t decide | |
| Too little, too late, two worlds divide | |
| And our worlds divide | |
| So better choose your side | |
| Split and our worlds divide |
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