No Kings Lyrics
| Song | No Kings |
| Artist | El-P |
| Album | I'll Sleep When You're Dead |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : El P | |
| (El-P) | |
| And the kids say | |
| Watch your man | |
| I think he's faking the band | |
| Y'all will either run the world or destroy it while holding hands | |
| Architect, terrible vet with bent flashback | |
| Me clutchin' a 30 od, burn village laughing | |
| Gas mask latched in | |
| Signal for the whirly | |
| Worm killer bird on the set | |
| I flex early | |
| Got to beat the rush and report it all to the hive mind | |
| Weathermen and such, motherfucks, try to malign mine | |
| Let's digress now | |
| Kings, put your cans up | |
| Paint the city scope with the prettiest type of cancer | |
| Watch 'em laser surg every tumor like a fatal relica | |
| New York is the truancy burg, sate of hysterica | |
| It's a brutalized lab bunny jumpin' the fence | |
| Grab the money and the charger for the microchip embedded in head | |
| Brooklyn is the life | |
| Equal parts joy, strife | |
| I sit up in the cribbo and carve these 'noid kites out of lead | |
| The same weight of the monkey on my neck | |
| Who crawled off my back and tried to make friends | |
| Now I'm walkin' 'round lit like the fun never ends | |
| But someone ran their key on my whip, plus left dents | |
| Welcome to my bastard delight night, gents | |
| Where everything has a meaning but none of it makes sense | |
| Living is so demeaning but rappers still wanna offer | |
| Fake aliens...from lying saucers | |
| I don't have the time, man | |
| I'm searching for bigger answers | |
| The beat is so sick | |
| Made with real bits of panther | |
| The clay of the city streets don't take to these broken cleats | |
| But I hold my johnson and walk it retarded | |
| It's just me | |
| what up, Tame? | |
| (Tame One) | |
| Desperate men do dangerous things | |
| Full alarm system, New York with No Kings | |
| Desperate kids do dangerous shit | |
| Full alarm system, it's on where you live | |
| (El-P) | |
| My name is El-Producto, my friend | |
| I walk rawly | |
| Oddly, bent pood beast | |
| Fiends try to draw me | |
| Another close copy but not the god hardly | |
| Sex shit sloppily | |
| Fuck yourself (Pardon me) | |
| Look, here comes the scientists | |
| Here they come to cure us all | |
| Mind is on your money, sonny | |
| Brain is on the curtain call | |
| Give the kid a sack a D | |
| Pass the child a bag of C | |
| Even in the tenement residence there's a pharmacy | |
| Deadly young people | |
| Deadly new day | |
| Young deadly dumb kick snare pattern play | |
| Dignity for criminals | |
| Science for religion | |
| War stole the future | |
| Peace is for bitches | |
| Eveything's a felony | |
| Relatively hellishly | |
| Cops make guns whistle like "Here, check the melody" | |
| You need to learn to worship the warships | |
| Anything made of steel, of course, can leave corpses | |
| Cops on four horses | |
| Hot to draw quarters | |
| The morbidist thoughts are mad laws and enforced quick | |
| Don't lift your foot off of that land mine switch | |
| Till I make the 20 yard dash and cover my eyelid | |
| We don't need no edumucation | |
| There's no patience | |
| My team is on the food line | |
| Blicker in the waist and | |
| Walkies all connected | |
| Gotta wait for the signal | |
| Weathermen are the lefties that burn to the bone gristle | |
| Insight is disease | |
| Feed the criminal rotary | |
| All over the world it's the same skull fuck locally | |
| Alpha flight airs the are rare we rock openly | |
| Feeling like a kid again, umbilical choking you | |
| Never shit on my faction of bastards | |
| Not openly | |
| Don't you even whisper shit | |
| Not even if jokingly | |
| Straight out of poisenville | |
| Comin' up for air again | |
| Nah, the air is poisonous | |
| Environment choking me | |
| Do it again | |
| (Tame One) | |
| Desperate men do dangerous things | |
| Full alarm system, New York with No Kings | |
| Desperate kids do dangerous shit | |
| Full alarm system, it's on where you live |
| zuo ci : El P | |
| ElP | |
| And the kids say | |
| Watch your man | |
| I think he' s faking the band | |
| Y' all will either run the world or destroy it while holding hands | |
| Architect, terrible vet with bent flashback | |
| Me clutchin' a 30 od, burn village laughing | |
| Gas mask latched in | |
| Signal for the whirly | |
| Worm killer bird on the set | |
| I flex early | |
| Got to beat the rush and report it all to the hive mind | |
| Weathermen and such, motherfucks, try to malign mine | |
| Let' s digress now | |
| Kings, put your cans up | |
| Paint the city scope with the prettiest type of cancer | |
| Watch ' em laser surg every tumor like a fatal relica | |
| New York is the truancy burg, sate of hysterica | |
| It' s a brutalized lab bunny jumpin' the fence | |
| Grab the money and the charger for the microchip embedded in head | |
| Brooklyn is the life | |
| Equal parts joy, strife | |
| I sit up in the cribbo and carve these ' noid kites out of lead | |
| The same weight of the monkey on my neck | |
| Who crawled off my back and tried to make friends | |
| Now I' m walkin' ' round lit like the fun never ends | |
| But someone ran their key on my whip, plus left dents | |
| Welcome to my bastard delight night, gents | |
| Where everything has a meaning but none of it makes sense | |
| Living is so demeaning but rappers still wanna offer | |
| Fake aliens... from lying saucers | |
| I don' t have the time, man | |
| I' m searching for bigger answers | |
| The beat is so sick | |
| Made with real bits of panther | |
| The clay of the city streets don' t take to these broken cleats | |
| But I hold my johnson and walk it retarded | |
| It' s just me | |
| what up, Tame? | |
| Tame One | |
| Desperate men do dangerous things | |
| Full alarm system, New York with No Kings | |
| Desperate kids do dangerous shit | |
| Full alarm system, it' s on where you live | |
| ElP | |
| My name is ElProducto, my friend | |
| I walk rawly | |
| Oddly, bent pood beast | |
| Fiends try to draw me | |
| Another close copy but not the god hardly | |
| Sex shit sloppily | |
| Fuck yourself Pardon me | |
| Look, here comes the scientists | |
| Here they come to cure us all | |
| Mind is on your money, sonny | |
| Brain is on the curtain call | |
| Give the kid a sack a D | |
| Pass the child a bag of C | |
| Even in the tenement residence there' s a pharmacy | |
| Deadly young people | |
| Deadly new day | |
| Young deadly dumb kick snare pattern play | |
| Dignity for criminals | |
| Science for religion | |
| War stole the future | |
| Peace is for bitches | |
| Eveything' s a felony | |
| Relatively hellishly | |
| Cops make guns whistle like " Here, check the melody" | |
| You need to learn to worship the warships | |
| Anything made of steel, of course, can leave corpses | |
| Cops on four horses | |
| Hot to draw quarters | |
| The morbidist thoughts are mad laws and enforced quick | |
| Don' t lift your foot off of that land mine switch | |
| Till I make the 20 yard dash and cover my eyelid | |
| We don' t need no edumucation | |
| There' s no patience | |
| My team is on the food line | |
| Blicker in the waist and | |
| Walkies all connected | |
| Gotta wait for the signal | |
| Weathermen are the lefties that burn to the bone gristle | |
| Insight is disease | |
| Feed the criminal rotary | |
| All over the world it' s the same skull fuck locally | |
| Alpha flight airs the are rare we rock openly | |
| Feeling like a kid again, umbilical choking you | |
| Never shit on my faction of bastards | |
| Not openly | |
| Don' t you even whisper shit | |
| Not even if jokingly | |
| Straight out of poisenville | |
| Comin' up for air again | |
| Nah, the air is poisonous | |
| Environment choking me | |
| Do it again | |
| Tame One | |
| Desperate men do dangerous things | |
| Full alarm system, New York with No Kings | |
| Desperate kids do dangerous shit | |
| Full alarm system, it' s on where you live |
| zuò cí : El P | |
| ElP | |
| And the kids say | |
| Watch your man | |
| I think he' s faking the band | |
| Y' all will either run the world or destroy it while holding hands | |
| Architect, terrible vet with bent flashback | |
| Me clutchin' a 30 od, burn village laughing | |
| Gas mask latched in | |
| Signal for the whirly | |
| Worm killer bird on the set | |
| I flex early | |
| Got to beat the rush and report it all to the hive mind | |
| Weathermen and such, motherfucks, try to malign mine | |
| Let' s digress now | |
| Kings, put your cans up | |
| Paint the city scope with the prettiest type of cancer | |
| Watch ' em laser surg every tumor like a fatal relica | |
| New York is the truancy burg, sate of hysterica | |
| It' s a brutalized lab bunny jumpin' the fence | |
| Grab the money and the charger for the microchip embedded in head | |
| Brooklyn is the life | |
| Equal parts joy, strife | |
| I sit up in the cribbo and carve these ' noid kites out of lead | |
| The same weight of the monkey on my neck | |
| Who crawled off my back and tried to make friends | |
| Now I' m walkin' ' round lit like the fun never ends | |
| But someone ran their key on my whip, plus left dents | |
| Welcome to my bastard delight night, gents | |
| Where everything has a meaning but none of it makes sense | |
| Living is so demeaning but rappers still wanna offer | |
| Fake aliens... from lying saucers | |
| I don' t have the time, man | |
| I' m searching for bigger answers | |
| The beat is so sick | |
| Made with real bits of panther | |
| The clay of the city streets don' t take to these broken cleats | |
| But I hold my johnson and walk it retarded | |
| It' s just me | |
| what up, Tame? | |
| Tame One | |
| Desperate men do dangerous things | |
| Full alarm system, New York with No Kings | |
| Desperate kids do dangerous shit | |
| Full alarm system, it' s on where you live | |
| ElP | |
| My name is ElProducto, my friend | |
| I walk rawly | |
| Oddly, bent pood beast | |
| Fiends try to draw me | |
| Another close copy but not the god hardly | |
| Sex shit sloppily | |
| Fuck yourself Pardon me | |
| Look, here comes the scientists | |
| Here they come to cure us all | |
| Mind is on your money, sonny | |
| Brain is on the curtain call | |
| Give the kid a sack a D | |
| Pass the child a bag of C | |
| Even in the tenement residence there' s a pharmacy | |
| Deadly young people | |
| Deadly new day | |
| Young deadly dumb kick snare pattern play | |
| Dignity for criminals | |
| Science for religion | |
| War stole the future | |
| Peace is for bitches | |
| Eveything' s a felony | |
| Relatively hellishly | |
| Cops make guns whistle like " Here, check the melody" | |
| You need to learn to worship the warships | |
| Anything made of steel, of course, can leave corpses | |
| Cops on four horses | |
| Hot to draw quarters | |
| The morbidist thoughts are mad laws and enforced quick | |
| Don' t lift your foot off of that land mine switch | |
| Till I make the 20 yard dash and cover my eyelid | |
| We don' t need no edumucation | |
| There' s no patience | |
| My team is on the food line | |
| Blicker in the waist and | |
| Walkies all connected | |
| Gotta wait for the signal | |
| Weathermen are the lefties that burn to the bone gristle | |
| Insight is disease | |
| Feed the criminal rotary | |
| All over the world it' s the same skull fuck locally | |
| Alpha flight airs the are rare we rock openly | |
| Feeling like a kid again, umbilical choking you | |
| Never shit on my faction of bastards | |
| Not openly | |
| Don' t you even whisper shit | |
| Not even if jokingly | |
| Straight out of poisenville | |
| Comin' up for air again | |
| Nah, the air is poisonous | |
| Environment choking me | |
| Do it again | |
| Tame One | |
| Desperate men do dangerous things | |
| Full alarm system, New York with No Kings | |
| Desperate kids do dangerous shit | |
| Full alarm system, it' s on where you live |
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