Song | Victory! (Come Forward) |
Artist | Brother Ali |
Album | Shadows On The Sun |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Ant, Brother Ali | |
( CHORUS ) | |
Victory | |
Ours are the cries that breathe life in the concrete | |
Victory | |
Ours are the tears that splash genius at God's feet | |
Victory | |
Ours are the prayers that weave poetry through drum beats | |
Victory | |
( VERSE 1: Brother Ali ) | |
Step inside the mind of a soon-to-be legendary | |
Straight paramilitary | |
Brother Ali exist to read the scripture, it's never read | |
Whoever said this underground hip-hop shit is dead | |
Must have fallen on his head | |
Spent my lifetime buildin | |
Writin rhymes I remind rappers of everything that scared them as children | |
They call me show stopper | |
No opera singer has hit the exact pitch, I spit my flow out of | |
Taught directly by the source of all knowledge | |
You don't affect me till you're forced to draw powers | |
Respect me as a voice amongst scholars | |
Who speak deep to thee, move the sleep from your eye lids | |
Make your lungs flutter | |
Get it right, my inner light cast shadows on the sun, brother | |
I'm where the rubber meets the concrete | |
It's a cold world, not sayin bring your your own heat | |
I'm just sayin don't sleep | |
I'm walkin with the lion till the day that I die | |
And the pens have been lifted and the pages have dried | |
And a big smoke screen wrote my name in the sky | |
Politickin with the angels knowin they would reply | |
Got the lungs of a cyclone, tongue of a python | |
The reason why your favorite MC sleep with the lights on | |
Right on, brother, we def as **** | |
Not 'deaf' like (What?) but 'def' like (WHAT!) | |
From the depths around the planet where my name's spoken | |
We here to get our brains open and our chains broken | |
Watch me walk around the planet with the same notion | |
His adversaries thought the pain broke him | |
But we run up in a stadium with diagnostics | |
Two tables and a mic and take a crowd hostage | |
And the very first item on my list of demands | |
Is that all these freedom fighters start liftin they hands | |
( CHORUS ) | |
To my freedom fighters and the graffiti writers | |
And the people like us - come forward | |
And to the torch carriers speakin Arabic | |
Ridin on your charriots - come forward | |
To my political prisoners, individual listeners | |
Who feelin this - come forward | |
And to the bone shakers and the home makers | |
Raisin our own saviors - come forward | |
( VERSE 2: Brother Ali ) | |
Me and my people are signed, sealed, delivered, incorporated | |
brought to your by Rhymesayers Entertainment | |
You got to face it, we not complacent | |
We came for your debasement and left your face bent | |
And me, mister Brother Ali is the stomp-down-beat-kicker | |
Who walkin the streets with the so real philosophy | |
Until I fulfill prophecy there's no real stoppin me | |
Obviously I'm the bomb, believe me | |
Opponents come up missin and they all beneath me | |
I know my soldiers need me, they call and beep me | |
I walk the streets freely with ( ? ) beneath me, boy | |
We stays gettin it on | |
Act hard and I probably make you strip to your thong | |
Dissin your song and feel you mouth to fist when you yawn | |
Nibblin on a rapper till the gristle is gone | |
I stand and sing from atop Mount Ararat | |
I am a king, just ain't got my kingdom yet | |
And my anthem ring from the Congo to your set | |
I'm Alfred Hitchcock with my silhouette | |
Pourin Blood On Beats till the trumpet is blown | |
Coffins, I release em when I'm up in the zone | |
Fortune favors the brave and press on is the motto | |
Cast shadows on the sun with my bravado | |
( CHORUS ) |
zuo qu : Ant, Brother Ali | |
CHORUS | |
Victory | |
Ours are the cries that breathe life in the concrete | |
Victory | |
Ours are the tears that splash genius at God' s feet | |
Victory | |
Ours are the prayers that weave poetry through drum beats | |
Victory | |
VERSE 1: Brother Ali | |
Step inside the mind of a soontobe legendary | |
Straight paramilitary | |
Brother Ali exist to read the scripture, it' s never read | |
Whoever said this underground hiphop shit is dead | |
Must have fallen on his head | |
Spent my lifetime buildin | |
Writin rhymes I remind rappers of everything that scared them as children | |
They call me show stopper | |
No opera singer has hit the exact pitch, I spit my flow out of | |
Taught directly by the source of all knowledge | |
You don' t affect me till you' re forced to draw powers | |
Respect me as a voice amongst scholars | |
Who speak deep to thee, move the sleep from your eye lids | |
Make your lungs flutter | |
Get it right, my inner light cast shadows on the sun, brother | |
I' m where the rubber meets the concrete | |
It' s a cold world, not sayin bring your your own heat | |
I' m just sayin don' t sleep | |
I' m walkin with the lion till the day that I die | |
And the pens have been lifted and the pages have dried | |
And a big smoke screen wrote my name in the sky | |
Politickin with the angels knowin they would reply | |
Got the lungs of a cyclone, tongue of a python | |
The reason why your favorite MC sleep with the lights on | |
Right on, brother, we def as | |
Not ' deaf' like What? but ' def' like WHAT! | |
From the depths around the planet where my name' s spoken | |
We here to get our brains open and our chains broken | |
Watch me walk around the planet with the same notion | |
His adversaries thought the pain broke him | |
But we run up in a stadium with diagnostics | |
Two tables and a mic and take a crowd hostage | |
And the very first item on my list of demands | |
Is that all these freedom fighters start liftin they hands | |
CHORUS | |
To my freedom fighters and the graffiti writers | |
And the people like us come forward | |
And to the torch carriers speakin Arabic | |
Ridin on your charriots come forward | |
To my political prisoners, individual listeners | |
Who feelin this come forward | |
And to the bone shakers and the home makers | |
Raisin our own saviors come forward | |
VERSE 2: Brother Ali | |
Me and my people are signed, sealed, delivered, incorporated | |
brought to your by Rhymesayers Entertainment | |
You got to face it, we not complacent | |
We came for your debasement and left your face bent | |
And me, mister Brother Ali is the stompdownbeatkicker | |
Who walkin the streets with the so real philosophy | |
Until I fulfill prophecy there' s no real stoppin me | |
Obviously I' m the bomb, believe me | |
Opponents come up missin and they all beneath me | |
I know my soldiers need me, they call and beep me | |
I walk the streets freely with nbsp? beneath me, boy | |
We stays gettin it on | |
Act hard and I probably make you strip to your thong | |
Dissin your song and feel you mouth to fist when you yawn | |
Nibblin on a rapper till the gristle is gone | |
I stand and sing from atop Mount Ararat | |
I am a king, just ain' t got my kingdom yet | |
And my anthem ring from the Congo to your set | |
I' m Alfred Hitchcock with my silhouette | |
Pourin Blood On Beats till the trumpet is blown | |
Coffins, I release em when I' m up in the zone | |
Fortune favors the brave and press on is the motto | |
Cast shadows on the sun with my bravado | |
CHORUS |
zuò qǔ : Ant, Brother Ali | |
CHORUS | |
Victory | |
Ours are the cries that breathe life in the concrete | |
Victory | |
Ours are the tears that splash genius at God' s feet | |
Victory | |
Ours are the prayers that weave poetry through drum beats | |
Victory | |
VERSE 1: Brother Ali | |
Step inside the mind of a soontobe legendary | |
Straight paramilitary | |
Brother Ali exist to read the scripture, it' s never read | |
Whoever said this underground hiphop shit is dead | |
Must have fallen on his head | |
Spent my lifetime buildin | |
Writin rhymes I remind rappers of everything that scared them as children | |
They call me show stopper | |
No opera singer has hit the exact pitch, I spit my flow out of | |
Taught directly by the source of all knowledge | |
You don' t affect me till you' re forced to draw powers | |
Respect me as a voice amongst scholars | |
Who speak deep to thee, move the sleep from your eye lids | |
Make your lungs flutter | |
Get it right, my inner light cast shadows on the sun, brother | |
I' m where the rubber meets the concrete | |
It' s a cold world, not sayin bring your your own heat | |
I' m just sayin don' t sleep | |
I' m walkin with the lion till the day that I die | |
And the pens have been lifted and the pages have dried | |
And a big smoke screen wrote my name in the sky | |
Politickin with the angels knowin they would reply | |
Got the lungs of a cyclone, tongue of a python | |
The reason why your favorite MC sleep with the lights on | |
Right on, brother, we def as | |
Not ' deaf' like What? but ' def' like WHAT! | |
From the depths around the planet where my name' s spoken | |
We here to get our brains open and our chains broken | |
Watch me walk around the planet with the same notion | |
His adversaries thought the pain broke him | |
But we run up in a stadium with diagnostics | |
Two tables and a mic and take a crowd hostage | |
And the very first item on my list of demands | |
Is that all these freedom fighters start liftin they hands | |
CHORUS | |
To my freedom fighters and the graffiti writers | |
And the people like us come forward | |
And to the torch carriers speakin Arabic | |
Ridin on your charriots come forward | |
To my political prisoners, individual listeners | |
Who feelin this come forward | |
And to the bone shakers and the home makers | |
Raisin our own saviors come forward | |
VERSE 2: Brother Ali | |
Me and my people are signed, sealed, delivered, incorporated | |
brought to your by Rhymesayers Entertainment | |
You got to face it, we not complacent | |
We came for your debasement and left your face bent | |
And me, mister Brother Ali is the stompdownbeatkicker | |
Who walkin the streets with the so real philosophy | |
Until I fulfill prophecy there' s no real stoppin me | |
Obviously I' m the bomb, believe me | |
Opponents come up missin and they all beneath me | |
I know my soldiers need me, they call and beep me | |
I walk the streets freely with nbsp? beneath me, boy | |
We stays gettin it on | |
Act hard and I probably make you strip to your thong | |
Dissin your song and feel you mouth to fist when you yawn | |
Nibblin on a rapper till the gristle is gone | |
I stand and sing from atop Mount Ararat | |
I am a king, just ain' t got my kingdom yet | |
And my anthem ring from the Congo to your set | |
I' m Alfred Hitchcock with my silhouette | |
Pourin Blood On Beats till the trumpet is blown | |
Coffins, I release em when I' m up in the zone | |
Fortune favors the brave and press on is the motto | |
Cast shadows on the sun with my bravado | |
CHORUS |