| Song | Distant Wilderness |
| Artist | Goodie Mob |
| Album | Still Standing |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Barnett, Burton, Gipp ... | |
| Why is it you fail, to see a man | |
| In the same hour, that his kin come grinnin? | |
| In another code, fell asleep, party mode, tryin to come up | |
| From the ashes that defy your lift, listen up | |
| Ladies seem sweet, the ocean meets the mountain peaks | |
| Stone-walker, side-walker, watch those loose lips, wall street | |
| Numbers set by stock movers, buy my tip so i can touch | |
| Not for no print size, plate saint, white wasted h20 | |
| Four coats'll make it glaze | |
| Beams rooted like dogwood, between the pine, wind | |
| Twenty-fo' stores with malt for sale, still fetchin water | |
| Out the well, help em size, find the grind, find the times | |
| Where the times weighed as hard as ? find me shoes, baby daddy | |
| Rico daddy, he didn't break the tv | |
| So why should i weep, man gon' bye, see you when my light blow | |
| Got more good than dirt to throw, and i won't pull | |
| Between the halo, and a fork-pitch | |
| Suffocated by my rhymes... | |
| Chorus: debra killings | |
| Worship high, it's just another name | |
| Take your time and concentrate on it | |
| Take a stand and make your hand a fist | |
| We got a reason to resist | |
| [gipp] | |
| The mortal orbit your nadir, don't cross the fade | |
| Chillin in decatur, where it's greater, secure streets | |
| In the hood late at nights, dippin fine | |
| Hard not to be slippin, if they come, i won't run | |
| When it's time, i ain't trippin, i got my date | |
| And you got yours too, i see, the record sales soar | |
| After the death, of this creator, genocidal, tendencies | |
| When they mention he, who listens, to unseen hand | |
| Cappin the faces of the young black man, when they sing | |
| Knowin that we godly, got to keep it right | |
| With my people cause i'm equal no matter, how much i make | |
| I can't escape fate, the date as i await | |
| As i await, i can't fake | |
| Can't fake, i can't fake, i'm true with it | |
| [khujo] | |
| A duffel for the cash, platinum within myself from another earth | |
| Spill, nina, tea leaf, your very, existance | |
| Is considered a privelege, buck up, and they can't, be revoked | |
| Pay your taxes, uhh, snake eyes | |
| Strapped with flaws, still iterant to a lot of laws | |
| Man-made, but that's a dot, everybody | |
| From the east coast don't wear it back home, whatchu think? | |
| Gettin they thoughts mixed negative, after reoccurances | |
| I say a prayer, plus if i, entertained them | |
| It's easy to commit, hard to resist | |
| And once we cross that line segment, not even our producers | |
| Can bring us back, eyeballs peeled | |
| Eardrums opened, egos stripped stroked, another low blow | |
| Delivered to the hip-hop culture, uhh | |
| Industry consists of thieveries, prostititues | |
| And folgers if somethin bigger than us, past the blue | |
| Told us that it wasn't a heaven for g's | |
| Then we do this, continue your devilish deeds | |
| I mean activities, that just show, that it's a hell | |
| For jacks, independent, but you distributed by your masters | |
| Labels still a slave, but you just get to eat at | |
| The white man's table, lookin like gable gunther | |
| On the guinness book of world records, god didn't like ugly | |
| And he wasn't too fond of cute either | |
| A climate of caution, a climate of caution in effect | |
| Chorus | |
| [cee-lo] | |
| Where i am, you can feel god is present, in the midst of darkness | |
| If you spark up bet somebody gonna see it | |
| It is necessary for me to speak these words now | |
| Another day here hasn't been promised to me, don't you agree | |
| That you never fail when you try, i'm willing to die but first | |
| I am willing to live, and i overstand that this will be | |
| A lifelong sacrifice, in order to reveal | |
| You gon' have to destroy, and if you ain't thinkin right | |
| You damn sure can't act right, somebody raise your fist | |
| And let me know i'm not alone, revolution, doesn't mean fightin | |
| In these streets, and it ain't gonna be no revolution | |
| Without the women, and, it ain't gonna be no future | |
| Without the children, and, it ain't gonna be no children | |
| Without the men, and, you can't have no love without the trust | |
| And no, trust can come without communication | |
| And you can't communicate if you ain't got shit to say | |
| You can't teach about what you, been deceived about too | |
| Any book you read is still limited education | |
| You gon' have to talk to god personally and time is short | |
| And, he's on his way, and i will receive | |
| A grateful word for what i've done | |
| And this is all that really matters to me | |
| In time you will see what i told you is true | |
| And i ain't have to rhyme to say that to you | |
| I ain't got to rhyme to say it to you, it's true | |
| Chorus |
| zuo ci : Barnett, Burton, Gipp ... | |
| Why is it you fail, to see a man | |
| In the same hour, that his kin come grinnin? | |
| In another code, fell asleep, party mode, tryin to come up | |
| From the ashes that defy your lift, listen up | |
| Ladies seem sweet, the ocean meets the mountain peaks | |
| Stonewalker, sidewalker, watch those loose lips, wall street | |
| Numbers set by stock movers, buy my tip so i can touch | |
| Not for no print size, plate saint, white wasted h20 | |
| Four coats' ll make it glaze | |
| Beams rooted like dogwood, between the pine, wind | |
| Twentyfo' stores with malt for sale, still fetchin water | |
| Out the well, help em size, find the grind, find the times | |
| Where the times weighed as hard as ? find me shoes, baby daddy | |
| Rico daddy, he didn' t break the tv | |
| So why should i weep, man gon' bye, see you when my light blow | |
| Got more good than dirt to throw, and i won' t pull | |
| Between the halo, and a forkpitch | |
| Suffocated by my rhymes... | |
| Chorus: debra killings | |
| Worship high, it' s just another name | |
| Take your time and concentrate on it | |
| Take a stand and make your hand a fist | |
| We got a reason to resist | |
| gipp | |
| The mortal orbit your nadir, don' t cross the fade | |
| Chillin in decatur, where it' s greater, secure streets | |
| In the hood late at nights, dippin fine | |
| Hard not to be slippin, if they come, i won' t run | |
| When it' s time, i ain' t trippin, i got my date | |
| And you got yours too, i see, the record sales soar | |
| After the death, of this creator, genocidal, tendencies | |
| When they mention he, who listens, to unseen hand | |
| Cappin the faces of the young black man, when they sing | |
| Knowin that we godly, got to keep it right | |
| With my people cause i' m equal no matter, how much i make | |
| I can' t escape fate, the date as i await | |
| As i await, i can' t fake | |
| Can' t fake, i can' t fake, i' m true with it | |
| khujo | |
| A duffel for the cash, platinum within myself from another earth | |
| Spill, nina, tea leaf, your very, existance | |
| Is considered a privelege, buck up, and they can' t, be revoked | |
| Pay your taxes, uhh, snake eyes | |
| Strapped with flaws, still iterant to a lot of laws | |
| Manmade, but that' s a dot, everybody | |
| From the east coast don' t wear it back home, whatchu think? | |
| Gettin they thoughts mixed negative, after reoccurances | |
| I say a prayer, plus if i, entertained them | |
| It' s easy to commit, hard to resist | |
| And once we cross that line segment, not even our producers | |
| Can bring us back, eyeballs peeled | |
| Eardrums opened, egos stripped stroked, another low blow | |
| Delivered to the hiphop culture, uhh | |
| Industry consists of thieveries, prostititues | |
| And folgers if somethin bigger than us, past the blue | |
| Told us that it wasn' t a heaven for g' s | |
| Then we do this, continue your devilish deeds | |
| I mean activities, that just show, that it' s a hell | |
| For jacks, independent, but you distributed by your masters | |
| Labels still a slave, but you just get to eat at | |
| The white man' s table, lookin like gable gunther | |
| On the guinness book of world records, god didn' t like ugly | |
| And he wasn' t too fond of cute either | |
| A climate of caution, a climate of caution in effect | |
| Chorus | |
| ceelo | |
| Where i am, you can feel god is present, in the midst of darkness | |
| If you spark up bet somebody gonna see it | |
| It is necessary for me to speak these words now | |
| Another day here hasn' t been promised to me, don' t you agree | |
| That you never fail when you try, i' m willing to die but first | |
| I am willing to live, and i overstand that this will be | |
| A lifelong sacrifice, in order to reveal | |
| You gon' have to destroy, and if you ain' t thinkin right | |
| You damn sure can' t act right, somebody raise your fist | |
| And let me know i' m not alone, revolution, doesn' t mean fightin | |
| In these streets, and it ain' t gonna be no revolution | |
| Without the women, and, it ain' t gonna be no future | |
| Without the children, and, it ain' t gonna be no children | |
| Without the men, and, you can' t have no love without the trust | |
| And no, trust can come without communication | |
| And you can' t communicate if you ain' t got shit to say | |
| You can' t teach about what you, been deceived about too | |
| Any book you read is still limited education | |
| You gon' have to talk to god personally and time is short | |
| And, he' s on his way, and i will receive | |
| A grateful word for what i' ve done | |
| And this is all that really matters to me | |
| In time you will see what i told you is true | |
| And i ain' t have to rhyme to say that to you | |
| I ain' t got to rhyme to say it to you, it' s true | |
| Chorus |
| zuò cí : Barnett, Burton, Gipp ... | |
| Why is it you fail, to see a man | |
| In the same hour, that his kin come grinnin? | |
| In another code, fell asleep, party mode, tryin to come up | |
| From the ashes that defy your lift, listen up | |
| Ladies seem sweet, the ocean meets the mountain peaks | |
| Stonewalker, sidewalker, watch those loose lips, wall street | |
| Numbers set by stock movers, buy my tip so i can touch | |
| Not for no print size, plate saint, white wasted h20 | |
| Four coats' ll make it glaze | |
| Beams rooted like dogwood, between the pine, wind | |
| Twentyfo' stores with malt for sale, still fetchin water | |
| Out the well, help em size, find the grind, find the times | |
| Where the times weighed as hard as ? find me shoes, baby daddy | |
| Rico daddy, he didn' t break the tv | |
| So why should i weep, man gon' bye, see you when my light blow | |
| Got more good than dirt to throw, and i won' t pull | |
| Between the halo, and a forkpitch | |
| Suffocated by my rhymes... | |
| Chorus: debra killings | |
| Worship high, it' s just another name | |
| Take your time and concentrate on it | |
| Take a stand and make your hand a fist | |
| We got a reason to resist | |
| gipp | |
| The mortal orbit your nadir, don' t cross the fade | |
| Chillin in decatur, where it' s greater, secure streets | |
| In the hood late at nights, dippin fine | |
| Hard not to be slippin, if they come, i won' t run | |
| When it' s time, i ain' t trippin, i got my date | |
| And you got yours too, i see, the record sales soar | |
| After the death, of this creator, genocidal, tendencies | |
| When they mention he, who listens, to unseen hand | |
| Cappin the faces of the young black man, when they sing | |
| Knowin that we godly, got to keep it right | |
| With my people cause i' m equal no matter, how much i make | |
| I can' t escape fate, the date as i await | |
| As i await, i can' t fake | |
| Can' t fake, i can' t fake, i' m true with it | |
| khujo | |
| A duffel for the cash, platinum within myself from another earth | |
| Spill, nina, tea leaf, your very, existance | |
| Is considered a privelege, buck up, and they can' t, be revoked | |
| Pay your taxes, uhh, snake eyes | |
| Strapped with flaws, still iterant to a lot of laws | |
| Manmade, but that' s a dot, everybody | |
| From the east coast don' t wear it back home, whatchu think? | |
| Gettin they thoughts mixed negative, after reoccurances | |
| I say a prayer, plus if i, entertained them | |
| It' s easy to commit, hard to resist | |
| And once we cross that line segment, not even our producers | |
| Can bring us back, eyeballs peeled | |
| Eardrums opened, egos stripped stroked, another low blow | |
| Delivered to the hiphop culture, uhh | |
| Industry consists of thieveries, prostititues | |
| And folgers if somethin bigger than us, past the blue | |
| Told us that it wasn' t a heaven for g' s | |
| Then we do this, continue your devilish deeds | |
| I mean activities, that just show, that it' s a hell | |
| For jacks, independent, but you distributed by your masters | |
| Labels still a slave, but you just get to eat at | |
| The white man' s table, lookin like gable gunther | |
| On the guinness book of world records, god didn' t like ugly | |
| And he wasn' t too fond of cute either | |
| A climate of caution, a climate of caution in effect | |
| Chorus | |
| ceelo | |
| Where i am, you can feel god is present, in the midst of darkness | |
| If you spark up bet somebody gonna see it | |
| It is necessary for me to speak these words now | |
| Another day here hasn' t been promised to me, don' t you agree | |
| That you never fail when you try, i' m willing to die but first | |
| I am willing to live, and i overstand that this will be | |
| A lifelong sacrifice, in order to reveal | |
| You gon' have to destroy, and if you ain' t thinkin right | |
| You damn sure can' t act right, somebody raise your fist | |
| And let me know i' m not alone, revolution, doesn' t mean fightin | |
| In these streets, and it ain' t gonna be no revolution | |
| Without the women, and, it ain' t gonna be no future | |
| Without the children, and, it ain' t gonna be no children | |
| Without the men, and, you can' t have no love without the trust | |
| And no, trust can come without communication | |
| And you can' t communicate if you ain' t got shit to say | |
| You can' t teach about what you, been deceived about too | |
| Any book you read is still limited education | |
| You gon' have to talk to god personally and time is short | |
| And, he' s on his way, and i will receive | |
| A grateful word for what i' ve done | |
| And this is all that really matters to me | |
| In time you will see what i told you is true | |
| And i ain' t have to rhyme to say that to you | |
| I ain' t got to rhyme to say it to you, it' s true | |
| Chorus |