| Song | That Ain't Life (Climax) |
| Artist | Souls of Mischief |
| Album | Trilogy: Conflict, Climax, Resolution |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Carter, Lindsey, Massey ... | |
| Yeah | |
| Push the button and the planet blows | |
| That ain't right | |
| Niggas be actin' like animals | |
| That ain't right | |
| Bustin' cannons when they brandish those | |
| That ain't right | |
| Put the mayor in a stranglehold | |
| That ain't right | |
| [a-plus] | |
| What? my firm is intense | |
| Leave permanent imprints | |
| A nigga was a infant when | |
| I learned i was gifted | |
| Knew i'd be eternally lifted when i get my turn to rip it | |
| Certainly did and we still in the shit | |
| We forever increase and never decease | |
| Saliva flips when a geek endeavor to speak | |
| Whenever plea and the four horsemen | |
| Kick your doors in | |
| You shiverin' | |
| Like a drunk nigga with no mo gin | |
| One more again | |
| Rollin' with the sons of the sun | |
| I got love when i come | |
| Put away your gun that's dumb | |
| Whe ain't sissy nigga my folks got some | |
| But i never the one that want to be ****in' up the fun | |
| Cause i rather have some female company rubbin' me | |
| Sippin?bubbly lookin' lovely in front of me hah | |
| Then i ride out to the hiero hideout | |
| And my lady friends slide out | |
| Garments regardless if i turn the light out | |
| [a-plus] | |
| That ain't right, that ain't right! | |
| Curse like a gat burst | |
| That ain't right | |
| Ride to church in a black hearse | |
| That ain't right | |
| Roamin' the turf on a crack search | |
| That ain't right | |
| [opio] | |
| It all radio music, corny as the rockettes | |
| Mindless sex objects make the cock get rock hard | |
| So you can concentrate or see what next | |
| While they spray the pollutants | |
| And lock down your district and send in lieutenants | |
| Shootin?up your boulevard while you was watchin?mtv | |
| Double connect pinched caught you slippin' instantly | |
| You was a prisioner they plottin' on your seeds | |
| Souls of mischief is different we operate on thieves they panic more | |
| Sniff 'em out like black labradors | |
| Battle ram doors crackin' down on your headquarters | |
| Avalanche yours 'til you're buried alive | |
| Your homie barely survived the rest is dead caught up | |
| Haters want my head shot up so i'm preparin' to fight | |
| Whether aryan knights or sherriffs of vice | |
| Nigga i'm equipped like a terrorist to tear up shit right | |
| [som] | |
| In life everything's fair | |
| That ain't right | |
| That's way a nigga don't share | |
| That ain't right | |
| Your girl left you for a square | |
| That ain't right | |
| And now you see him everywhere | |
| That ain't right | |
| Man i'm hella broke and jobless | |
| That ain't right | |
| My sister does mornin' topless | |
| That ain't right | |
| The lied to us and robbed us | |
| That ain't right | |
| And if you ain't livin' right | |
| That's death that ain't life | |
| [phesto dee] | |
| As they come in to great depths | |
| We surpass the summit | |
| Stranglin' rhythmic arrangement elements transpose and plummet | |
| I take it back to my roots, vast and infinite | |
| Composition is crafted intricate, jazz i rip it & | |
| Passion indica, smash your syndicate | |
| Before they can ask for sentiments and flow tear gas your tenements | |
| After i flash the emblem | |
| A symbol of the last millenium | |
| Who the best boy? | |
| Yeah we askin' anyone | |
| Peg your chest and | |
| Crush your velvet, shatter your pelvic | |
| Hard hat or your helmet spin in the cockpit of a plane | |
| And the tail spins | |
| Still my satin smooth | |
| Patented moves raps scat and | |
| Scoop fatten the groove flatten your crew | |
| Could happened to you | |
| Word it's my propensity to cut back | |
| Instantly change direction at my point of attack and leave tracks | |
| Dilapidated, handicapped and incapacitated | |
| When i ex-sling i silk screen these words in your chest | |
| Spit the verbal infernal burn mc's like oakland herbal | |
| And i do it faster than the grand national & twin turbo | |
| With a jose cuervo | |
| That ain't right | |
| Nah for real though | |
| That ain't right | |
| [tajai] | |
| Prophecy is my offering | |
| **** profiting off these profligate tales | |
| These mental paupers be proffering | |
| I await patiently till the time is proper to propagate | |
| My intellectual property | |
| Concentrated abated then trick ya and release it | |
| In synchronous increments | |
| Seemingly seamlessly | |
| I'm a semanticist | |
| Prayin' like many a mantis is | |
| Though i'm not meanderin' answerless | |
| Meditation that's my medication | |
| Concentration leads to consternation | |
| And conceptual inception | |
| Interspersed interjections | |
| Incite insurmountable insurrections | |
| In the urban sections | |
| Stretchin' my sharpest weapon | |
| Precise etchin's of life's lessons, scaled and detailed to perfection | |
| My imagination, the machinations of deceptive perception | |
| Come, inspect my collection | |
| [som] | |
| Man they shootin' at the product | |
| That ain't right | |
| I left her at the bus stops | |
| That ain't right | |
| You just a late night option | |
| That ain't right | |
| Man i would never trust no cop nigga | |
| That ain't right | |
| I'm getting rich off these tricks | |
| That ain't right | |
| Man **** that bitch! | |
| That ain't right | |
| You confused and want to switch | |
| That ain't right | |
| And if you ain't living right that's death | |
| That ain't life | |
| Poisonin' our men |
| zuo ci : Carter, Lindsey, Massey ... | |
| Yeah | |
| Push the button and the planet blows | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Niggas be actin' like animals | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Bustin' cannons when they brandish those | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Put the mayor in a stranglehold | |
| That ain' t right | |
| aplus | |
| What? my firm is intense | |
| Leave permanent imprints | |
| A nigga was a infant when | |
| I learned i was gifted | |
| Knew i' d be eternally lifted when i get my turn to rip it | |
| Certainly did and we still in the shit | |
| We forever increase and never decease | |
| Saliva flips when a geek endeavor to speak | |
| Whenever plea and the four horsemen | |
| Kick your doors in | |
| You shiverin' | |
| Like a drunk nigga with no mo gin | |
| One more again | |
| Rollin' with the sons of the sun | |
| I got love when i come | |
| Put away your gun that' s dumb | |
| Whe ain' t sissy nigga my folks got some | |
| But i never the one that want to be in' up the fun | |
| Cause i rather have some female company rubbin' me | |
| Sippin? bubbly lookin' lovely in front of me hah | |
| Then i ride out to the hiero hideout | |
| And my lady friends slide out | |
| Garments regardless if i turn the light out | |
| aplus | |
| That ain' t right, that ain' t right! | |
| Curse like a gat burst | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Ride to church in a black hearse | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Roamin' the turf on a crack search | |
| That ain' t right | |
| opio | |
| It all radio music, corny as the rockettes | |
| Mindless sex objects make the cock get rock hard | |
| So you can concentrate or see what next | |
| While they spray the pollutants | |
| And lock down your district and send in lieutenants | |
| Shootin? up your boulevard while you was watchin? mtv | |
| Double connect pinched caught you slippin' instantly | |
| You was a prisioner they plottin' on your seeds | |
| Souls of mischief is different we operate on thieves they panic more | |
| Sniff ' em out like black labradors | |
| Battle ram doors crackin' down on your headquarters | |
| Avalanche yours ' til you' re buried alive | |
| Your homie barely survived the rest is dead caught up | |
| Haters want my head shot up so i' m preparin' to fight | |
| Whether aryan knights or sherriffs of vice | |
| Nigga i' m equipped like a terrorist to tear up shit right | |
| som | |
| In life everything' s fair | |
| That ain' t right | |
| That' s way a nigga don' t share | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Your girl left you for a square | |
| That ain' t right | |
| And now you see him everywhere | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Man i' m hella broke and jobless | |
| That ain' t right | |
| My sister does mornin' topless | |
| That ain' t right | |
| The lied to us and robbed us | |
| That ain' t right | |
| And if you ain' t livin' right | |
| That' s death that ain' t life | |
| phesto dee | |
| As they come in to great depths | |
| We surpass the summit | |
| Stranglin' rhythmic arrangement elements transpose and plummet | |
| I take it back to my roots, vast and infinite | |
| Composition is crafted intricate, jazz i rip it | |
| Passion indica, smash your syndicate | |
| Before they can ask for sentiments and flow tear gas your tenements | |
| After i flash the emblem | |
| A symbol of the last millenium | |
| Who the best boy? | |
| Yeah we askin' anyone | |
| Peg your chest and | |
| Crush your velvet, shatter your pelvic | |
| Hard hat or your helmet spin in the cockpit of a plane | |
| And the tail spins | |
| Still my satin smooth | |
| Patented moves raps scat and | |
| Scoop fatten the groove flatten your crew | |
| Could happened to you | |
| Word it' s my propensity to cut back | |
| Instantly change direction at my point of attack and leave tracks | |
| Dilapidated, handicapped and incapacitated | |
| When i exsling i silk screen these words in your chest | |
| Spit the verbal infernal burn mc' s like oakland herbal | |
| And i do it faster than the grand national twin turbo | |
| With a jose cuervo | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Nah for real though | |
| That ain' t right | |
| tajai | |
| Prophecy is my offering | |
| profiting off these profligate tales | |
| These mental paupers be proffering | |
| I await patiently till the time is proper to propagate | |
| My intellectual property | |
| Concentrated abated then trick ya and release it | |
| In synchronous increments | |
| Seemingly seamlessly | |
| I' m a semanticist | |
| Prayin' like many a mantis is | |
| Though i' m not meanderin' answerless | |
| Meditation that' s my medication | |
| Concentration leads to consternation | |
| And conceptual inception | |
| Interspersed interjections | |
| Incite insurmountable insurrections | |
| In the urban sections | |
| Stretchin' my sharpest weapon | |
| Precise etchin' s of life' s lessons, scaled and detailed to perfection | |
| My imagination, the machinations of deceptive perception | |
| Come, inspect my collection | |
| som | |
| Man they shootin' at the product | |
| That ain' t right | |
| I left her at the bus stops | |
| That ain' t right | |
| You just a late night option | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Man i would never trust no cop nigga | |
| That ain' t right | |
| I' m getting rich off these tricks | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Man that bitch! | |
| That ain' t right | |
| You confused and want to switch | |
| That ain' t right | |
| And if you ain' t living right that' s death | |
| That ain' t life | |
| Poisonin' our men |
| zuò cí : Carter, Lindsey, Massey ... | |
| Yeah | |
| Push the button and the planet blows | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Niggas be actin' like animals | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Bustin' cannons when they brandish those | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Put the mayor in a stranglehold | |
| That ain' t right | |
| aplus | |
| What? my firm is intense | |
| Leave permanent imprints | |
| A nigga was a infant when | |
| I learned i was gifted | |
| Knew i' d be eternally lifted when i get my turn to rip it | |
| Certainly did and we still in the shit | |
| We forever increase and never decease | |
| Saliva flips when a geek endeavor to speak | |
| Whenever plea and the four horsemen | |
| Kick your doors in | |
| You shiverin' | |
| Like a drunk nigga with no mo gin | |
| One more again | |
| Rollin' with the sons of the sun | |
| I got love when i come | |
| Put away your gun that' s dumb | |
| Whe ain' t sissy nigga my folks got some | |
| But i never the one that want to be in' up the fun | |
| Cause i rather have some female company rubbin' me | |
| Sippin? bubbly lookin' lovely in front of me hah | |
| Then i ride out to the hiero hideout | |
| And my lady friends slide out | |
| Garments regardless if i turn the light out | |
| aplus | |
| That ain' t right, that ain' t right! | |
| Curse like a gat burst | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Ride to church in a black hearse | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Roamin' the turf on a crack search | |
| That ain' t right | |
| opio | |
| It all radio music, corny as the rockettes | |
| Mindless sex objects make the cock get rock hard | |
| So you can concentrate or see what next | |
| While they spray the pollutants | |
| And lock down your district and send in lieutenants | |
| Shootin? up your boulevard while you was watchin? mtv | |
| Double connect pinched caught you slippin' instantly | |
| You was a prisioner they plottin' on your seeds | |
| Souls of mischief is different we operate on thieves they panic more | |
| Sniff ' em out like black labradors | |
| Battle ram doors crackin' down on your headquarters | |
| Avalanche yours ' til you' re buried alive | |
| Your homie barely survived the rest is dead caught up | |
| Haters want my head shot up so i' m preparin' to fight | |
| Whether aryan knights or sherriffs of vice | |
| Nigga i' m equipped like a terrorist to tear up shit right | |
| som | |
| In life everything' s fair | |
| That ain' t right | |
| That' s way a nigga don' t share | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Your girl left you for a square | |
| That ain' t right | |
| And now you see him everywhere | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Man i' m hella broke and jobless | |
| That ain' t right | |
| My sister does mornin' topless | |
| That ain' t right | |
| The lied to us and robbed us | |
| That ain' t right | |
| And if you ain' t livin' right | |
| That' s death that ain' t life | |
| phesto dee | |
| As they come in to great depths | |
| We surpass the summit | |
| Stranglin' rhythmic arrangement elements transpose and plummet | |
| I take it back to my roots, vast and infinite | |
| Composition is crafted intricate, jazz i rip it | |
| Passion indica, smash your syndicate | |
| Before they can ask for sentiments and flow tear gas your tenements | |
| After i flash the emblem | |
| A symbol of the last millenium | |
| Who the best boy? | |
| Yeah we askin' anyone | |
| Peg your chest and | |
| Crush your velvet, shatter your pelvic | |
| Hard hat or your helmet spin in the cockpit of a plane | |
| And the tail spins | |
| Still my satin smooth | |
| Patented moves raps scat and | |
| Scoop fatten the groove flatten your crew | |
| Could happened to you | |
| Word it' s my propensity to cut back | |
| Instantly change direction at my point of attack and leave tracks | |
| Dilapidated, handicapped and incapacitated | |
| When i exsling i silk screen these words in your chest | |
| Spit the verbal infernal burn mc' s like oakland herbal | |
| And i do it faster than the grand national twin turbo | |
| With a jose cuervo | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Nah for real though | |
| That ain' t right | |
| tajai | |
| Prophecy is my offering | |
| profiting off these profligate tales | |
| These mental paupers be proffering | |
| I await patiently till the time is proper to propagate | |
| My intellectual property | |
| Concentrated abated then trick ya and release it | |
| In synchronous increments | |
| Seemingly seamlessly | |
| I' m a semanticist | |
| Prayin' like many a mantis is | |
| Though i' m not meanderin' answerless | |
| Meditation that' s my medication | |
| Concentration leads to consternation | |
| And conceptual inception | |
| Interspersed interjections | |
| Incite insurmountable insurrections | |
| In the urban sections | |
| Stretchin' my sharpest weapon | |
| Precise etchin' s of life' s lessons, scaled and detailed to perfection | |
| My imagination, the machinations of deceptive perception | |
| Come, inspect my collection | |
| som | |
| Man they shootin' at the product | |
| That ain' t right | |
| I left her at the bus stops | |
| That ain' t right | |
| You just a late night option | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Man i would never trust no cop nigga | |
| That ain' t right | |
| I' m getting rich off these tricks | |
| That ain' t right | |
| Man that bitch! | |
| That ain' t right | |
| You confused and want to switch | |
| That ain' t right | |
| And if you ain' t living right that' s death | |
| That ain' t life | |
| Poisonin' our men |