Dune Methane Lyrics
| Song | Dune Methane |
| Artist | Hieroglyphics |
| Album | 3rd Eye Vision |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Lindsey, Owens, Owens | |
| Rappers sellin out for the money and fame | |
| But I just keep on dune methane | |
| Dee-dee-da-da-dee-dee-dane | |
| I just keep on dune methane | |
| [Casual] | |
| They only know colonial ways | |
| Anything that my homie okays | |
| is all right these days | |
| Display recklessness, whose tek is this | |
| Pointed in the window of ya coupe Lexuses | |
| Follow me on my Exodus | |
| My poetics will earn the respect of thus | |
| An individual crushing hypocritical nothings | |
| Like aluminum cans | |
| Put me on the mic and I'm doomin em | |
| Operation: MC Intimidation | |
| Occupation: rock the place then leave relieved | |
| The masta John, large like a mastodon | |
| In charge of the class Cas is on | |
| Some whole new shit than you bastards on | |
| Bitten my old style while smash was gone | |
| My infallible flows will swallow you wholes | |
| Rappin bout cars and clotes you need to kill it | |
| [Chorus x2] | |
| [Opio] | |
| I'm voices in your subconscious, knots in your intestines | |
| Crescent moon attack stance if you glance at the mic | |
| I'm unlike all types | |
| Can't master breakin necks cause they need more gigabytes | |
| I hit em twice...iced em, cold like liquid nitrogen | |
| They need vitamins and ginseng | |
| If you fencing with these you get stabbed in the heart | |
| Me, I'm like the Highlander | |
| Tapping the soul of my enemies, capturing their energies | |
| Disappear from the stage like the vanisher | |
| Grabbin the mic and drive a spike right through the center | |
| For these niggaz all sequenced up like the spinners | |
| I get the crowd high like paint thinners | |
| And watch me cruise, crackle and splinter | |
| They can't tackle the impenetrable sound | |
| Sciences of Hieroglyphics even with assault rifles | |
| And silencers, M-16s ain't hitting nothing | |
| When we corrupting rappers | |
| Togetherness like alpha flight when we write | |
| The unmistakable interaction in your ears, outta sight | |
| Fightin in a circle, we workin the mic 2 deep | |
| Pass that mothafucka so I can sink my teeth in | |
| Center myself, then I walk through the flames | |
| AKA The Mangler, feelin no pain | |
| No stranger to the danger room I'm into | |
| Meditation, blood coursin through my veins | |
| So the thoughts came interlaced with the taste of victory | |
| I'm slippery, rippin these niggaz apart | |
| From start to finish...and it don't stop (Keep on) | |
| [Chorus x2] | |
| [Casual] | |
| Put Toure on the mixer, smooth as an elixir plus | |
| The meritorious flows of us | |
| Get a glorious response you're boring next to John | |
| I'm the only individual not capable of having a prime-time | |
| Can't capture this rapper from this present day backwoods | |
| To the depths of antiquity no one can get with me | |
| I used to battle Socrates rockin these same styles | |
| Inventor of math and science, holdin my style | |
| Showin defiance to the gangsta jargon you barkin | |
| Metaphysically sparkin in psyche when mic's in my face | |
| Compile salt-peter to blow up the place | |
| A striver, I'm the MacGyver of the black race | |
| The unforgettable prestigious speeches | |
| Manifested by the northwestern regions | |
| [Chorus x2] |
| zuo ci : Lindsey, Owens, Owens | |
| Rappers sellin out for the money and fame | |
| But I just keep on dune methane | |
| Deedeedadadeedeedane | |
| I just keep on dune methane | |
| Casual | |
| They only know colonial ways | |
| Anything that my homie okays | |
| is all right these days | |
| Display recklessness, whose tek is this | |
| Pointed in the window of ya coupe Lexuses | |
| Follow me on my Exodus | |
| My poetics will earn the respect of thus | |
| An individual crushing hypocritical nothings | |
| Like aluminum cans | |
| Put me on the mic and I' m doomin em | |
| Operation: MC Intimidation | |
| Occupation: rock the place then leave relieved | |
| The masta John, large like a mastodon | |
| In charge of the class Cas is on | |
| Some whole new shit than you bastards on | |
| Bitten my old style while smash was gone | |
| My infallible flows will swallow you wholes | |
| Rappin bout cars and clotes you need to kill it | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| Opio | |
| I' m voices in your subconscious, knots in your intestines | |
| Crescent moon attack stance if you glance at the mic | |
| I' m unlike all types | |
| Can' t master breakin necks cause they need more gigabytes | |
| I hit em twice... iced em, cold like liquid nitrogen | |
| They need vitamins and ginseng | |
| If you fencing with these you get stabbed in the heart | |
| Me, I' m like the Highlander | |
| Tapping the soul of my enemies, capturing their energies | |
| Disappear from the stage like the vanisher | |
| Grabbin the mic and drive a spike right through the center | |
| For these niggaz all sequenced up like the spinners | |
| I get the crowd high like paint thinners | |
| And watch me cruise, crackle and splinter | |
| They can' t tackle the impenetrable sound | |
| Sciences of Hieroglyphics even with assault rifles | |
| And silencers, M16s ain' t hitting nothing | |
| When we corrupting rappers | |
| Togetherness like alpha flight when we write | |
| The unmistakable interaction in your ears, outta sight | |
| Fightin in a circle, we workin the mic 2 deep | |
| Pass that mothafucka so I can sink my teeth in | |
| Center myself, then I walk through the flames | |
| AKA The Mangler, feelin no pain | |
| No stranger to the danger room I' m into | |
| Meditation, blood coursin through my veins | |
| So the thoughts came interlaced with the taste of victory | |
| I' m slippery, rippin these niggaz apart | |
| From start to finish... and it don' t stop Keep on | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| Casual | |
| Put Toure on the mixer, smooth as an elixir plus | |
| The meritorious flows of us | |
| Get a glorious response you' re boring next to John | |
| I' m the only individual not capable of having a primetime | |
| Can' t capture this rapper from this present day backwoods | |
| To the depths of antiquity no one can get with me | |
| I used to battle Socrates rockin these same styles | |
| Inventor of math and science, holdin my style | |
| Showin defiance to the gangsta jargon you barkin | |
| Metaphysically sparkin in psyche when mic' s in my face | |
| Compile saltpeter to blow up the place | |
| A striver, I' m the MacGyver of the black race | |
| The unforgettable prestigious speeches | |
| Manifested by the northwestern regions | |
| Chorus x2 |
| zuò cí : Lindsey, Owens, Owens | |
| Rappers sellin out for the money and fame | |
| But I just keep on dune methane | |
| Deedeedadadeedeedane | |
| I just keep on dune methane | |
| Casual | |
| They only know colonial ways | |
| Anything that my homie okays | |
| is all right these days | |
| Display recklessness, whose tek is this | |
| Pointed in the window of ya coupe Lexuses | |
| Follow me on my Exodus | |
| My poetics will earn the respect of thus | |
| An individual crushing hypocritical nothings | |
| Like aluminum cans | |
| Put me on the mic and I' m doomin em | |
| Operation: MC Intimidation | |
| Occupation: rock the place then leave relieved | |
| The masta John, large like a mastodon | |
| In charge of the class Cas is on | |
| Some whole new shit than you bastards on | |
| Bitten my old style while smash was gone | |
| My infallible flows will swallow you wholes | |
| Rappin bout cars and clotes you need to kill it | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| Opio | |
| I' m voices in your subconscious, knots in your intestines | |
| Crescent moon attack stance if you glance at the mic | |
| I' m unlike all types | |
| Can' t master breakin necks cause they need more gigabytes | |
| I hit em twice... iced em, cold like liquid nitrogen | |
| They need vitamins and ginseng | |
| If you fencing with these you get stabbed in the heart | |
| Me, I' m like the Highlander | |
| Tapping the soul of my enemies, capturing their energies | |
| Disappear from the stage like the vanisher | |
| Grabbin the mic and drive a spike right through the center | |
| For these niggaz all sequenced up like the spinners | |
| I get the crowd high like paint thinners | |
| And watch me cruise, crackle and splinter | |
| They can' t tackle the impenetrable sound | |
| Sciences of Hieroglyphics even with assault rifles | |
| And silencers, M16s ain' t hitting nothing | |
| When we corrupting rappers | |
| Togetherness like alpha flight when we write | |
| The unmistakable interaction in your ears, outta sight | |
| Fightin in a circle, we workin the mic 2 deep | |
| Pass that mothafucka so I can sink my teeth in | |
| Center myself, then I walk through the flames | |
| AKA The Mangler, feelin no pain | |
| No stranger to the danger room I' m into | |
| Meditation, blood coursin through my veins | |
| So the thoughts came interlaced with the taste of victory | |
| I' m slippery, rippin these niggaz apart | |
| From start to finish... and it don' t stop Keep on | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| Casual | |
| Put Toure on the mixer, smooth as an elixir plus | |
| The meritorious flows of us | |
| Get a glorious response you' re boring next to John | |
| I' m the only individual not capable of having a primetime | |
| Can' t capture this rapper from this present day backwoods | |
| To the depths of antiquity no one can get with me | |
| I used to battle Socrates rockin these same styles | |
| Inventor of math and science, holdin my style | |
| Showin defiance to the gangsta jargon you barkin | |
| Metaphysically sparkin in psyche when mic' s in my face | |
| Compile saltpeter to blow up the place | |
| A striver, I' m the MacGyver of the black race | |
| The unforgettable prestigious speeches | |
| Manifested by the northwestern regions | |
| Chorus x2 |
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