Conversations from a Speakeasy Lyrics
| Song | Conversations from a Speakeasy |
| Artist | Hilltop Hoods |
| Album | The Hard Road |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Francis, Lambert, McDonald ... | |
| Let's get introductions aside, | |
| Pressure, Omni and Suffa tonight busting the mic like, | |
| Lately I've been hearing nothing but hype, | |
| Pen's mightier than your sword? Then you'd be fucked in a fight, | |
| From the point of the exact conception I've had perfection, | |
| And you aint close to Omni even though you may lack direction, | |
| I've got a good heart, but bad intentions, | |
| Pressure don't need a map for reference I'm a man of legends, | |
| I'll last forever like bad impressions, | |
| Like the first night you cursed in adolescence, | |
| The way I slam a sentence can panic veterans, | |
| Some things are better left unsaid like anything that I have to mention, | |
| My loud mouths my downfall it's doubtful, | |
| I'll bite off more than I can chew cos I already got a mouthful, | |
| Act like I astound yall, well I'm a scoundrel, | |
| With enemies but cliché is a friend of me, I'm out yall. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able, | |
| We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It's the universal language of relaxation. | |
| Verse 2 Omni | |
| The heart of the giant, the eye of the lion, | |
| The smell of victory is what makes me keep trying, | |
| My will to survive is like I'm stranded on an island, | |
| I keep rhyming; keep climbing till somebody find me, | |
| My city's been behind me since the mid nineties, | |
| Right around the time when it was cool to be grimy, | |
| My DJ used to make the earth spin in reverse, | |
| Put the needle to the dirt, spread the word like you heard it first, | |
| Now it's all twisted, somebody told the truth but they missed it, | |
| I put it on my CD but they skipped it, | |
| But that's what happens when you do something different, | |
| Some people can just stay content with the simple shit, | |
| I live my life fast like it's my last, | |
| I don't trip off of cash or dwell in the past, | |
| I'm bigger than that; I'm bigger than rap, | |
| One of the sickest MCs on the map for bringing that back. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able, | |
| We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It's the universal language of relaxation. | |
| Verse 3 Suffa | |
| I heard there ain't no party like an open bar, | |
| We lay out rhymes like drinks for a broken heart, | |
| Heartbreak like liquor in an open scar, | |
| So bizarre, roll thick like smokers tar, | |
| Tell me who can rock parties with no guitar, | |
| And if I aint getting paid then I'm leaving in the promoters car, | |
| Tell me who you know this far, | |
| Gone, on till the moments | |
| Gone, on till the break of this governments back, | |
| And it's on till my mates are all loving the tracks, | |
| No thugs in his raps, no muggings and macks, | |
| And no guns, just trying to get us up on the map, | |
| Bust, Suffa on wax, trust it's on, | |
| I'm trying to do for rhyme what digital cameras did for porn, | |
| Born in a small town, die with a big mouth, | |
| Hoods tore it all down, shouts to the kids south. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able, | |
| We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It's the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able, | |
| We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It's the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able, | |
| We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It's the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you're able, | |
| We've got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It's the universal language of relaxation. |
| zuo qu : Francis, Lambert, McDonald ... | |
| Let' s get introductions aside, | |
| Pressure, Omni and Suffa tonight busting the mic like, | |
| Lately I' ve been hearing nothing but hype, | |
| Pen' s mightier than your sword? Then you' d be fucked in a fight, | |
| From the point of the exact conception I' ve had perfection, | |
| And you aint close to Omni even though you may lack direction, | |
| I' ve got a good heart, but bad intentions, | |
| Pressure don' t need a map for reference I' m a man of legends, | |
| I' ll last forever like bad impressions, | |
| Like the first night you cursed in adolescence, | |
| The way I slam a sentence can panic veterans, | |
| Some things are better left unsaid like anything that I have to mention, | |
| My loud mouths my downfall it' s doubtful, | |
| I' ll bite off more than I can chew cos I already got a mouthful, | |
| Act like I astound yall, well I' m a scoundrel, | |
| With enemies but cliche is a friend of me, I' m out yall. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation. | |
| Verse 2 Omni | |
| The heart of the giant, the eye of the lion, | |
| The smell of victory is what makes me keep trying, | |
| My will to survive is like I' m stranded on an island, | |
| I keep rhyming keep climbing till somebody find me, | |
| My city' s been behind me since the mid nineties, | |
| Right around the time when it was cool to be grimy, | |
| My DJ used to make the earth spin in reverse, | |
| Put the needle to the dirt, spread the word like you heard it first, | |
| Now it' s all twisted, somebody told the truth but they missed it, | |
| I put it on my CD but they skipped it, | |
| But that' s what happens when you do something different, | |
| Some people can just stay content with the simple shit, | |
| I live my life fast like it' s my last, | |
| I don' t trip off of cash or dwell in the past, | |
| I' m bigger than that I' m bigger than rap, | |
| One of the sickest MCs on the map for bringing that back. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation. | |
| Verse 3 Suffa | |
| I heard there ain' t no party like an open bar, | |
| We lay out rhymes like drinks for a broken heart, | |
| Heartbreak like liquor in an open scar, | |
| So bizarre, roll thick like smokers tar, | |
| Tell me who can rock parties with no guitar, | |
| And if I aint getting paid then I' m leaving in the promoters car, | |
| Tell me who you know this far, | |
| Gone, on till the moments | |
| Gone, on till the break of this governments back, | |
| And it' s on till my mates are all loving the tracks, | |
| No thugs in his raps, no muggings and macks, | |
| And no guns, just trying to get us up on the map, | |
| Bust, Suffa on wax, trust it' s on, | |
| I' m trying to do for rhyme what digital cameras did for porn, | |
| Born in a small town, die with a big mouth, | |
| Hoods tore it all down, shouts to the kids south. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation. |
| zuò qǔ : Francis, Lambert, McDonald ... | |
| Let' s get introductions aside, | |
| Pressure, Omni and Suffa tonight busting the mic like, | |
| Lately I' ve been hearing nothing but hype, | |
| Pen' s mightier than your sword? Then you' d be fucked in a fight, | |
| From the point of the exact conception I' ve had perfection, | |
| And you aint close to Omni even though you may lack direction, | |
| I' ve got a good heart, but bad intentions, | |
| Pressure don' t need a map for reference I' m a man of legends, | |
| I' ll last forever like bad impressions, | |
| Like the first night you cursed in adolescence, | |
| The way I slam a sentence can panic veterans, | |
| Some things are better left unsaid like anything that I have to mention, | |
| My loud mouths my downfall it' s doubtful, | |
| I' ll bite off more than I can chew cos I already got a mouthful, | |
| Act like I astound yall, well I' m a scoundrel, | |
| With enemies but cliché is a friend of me, I' m out yall. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation. | |
| Verse 2 Omni | |
| The heart of the giant, the eye of the lion, | |
| The smell of victory is what makes me keep trying, | |
| My will to survive is like I' m stranded on an island, | |
| I keep rhyming keep climbing till somebody find me, | |
| My city' s been behind me since the mid nineties, | |
| Right around the time when it was cool to be grimy, | |
| My DJ used to make the earth spin in reverse, | |
| Put the needle to the dirt, spread the word like you heard it first, | |
| Now it' s all twisted, somebody told the truth but they missed it, | |
| I put it on my CD but they skipped it, | |
| But that' s what happens when you do something different, | |
| Some people can just stay content with the simple shit, | |
| I live my life fast like it' s my last, | |
| I don' t trip off of cash or dwell in the past, | |
| I' m bigger than that I' m bigger than rap, | |
| One of the sickest MCs on the map for bringing that back. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation. | |
| Verse 3 Suffa | |
| I heard there ain' t no party like an open bar, | |
| We lay out rhymes like drinks for a broken heart, | |
| Heartbreak like liquor in an open scar, | |
| So bizarre, roll thick like smokers tar, | |
| Tell me who can rock parties with no guitar, | |
| And if I aint getting paid then I' m leaving in the promoters car, | |
| Tell me who you know this far, | |
| Gone, on till the moments | |
| Gone, on till the break of this governments back, | |
| And it' s on till my mates are all loving the tracks, | |
| No thugs in his raps, no muggings and macks, | |
| And no guns, just trying to get us up on the map, | |
| Bust, Suffa on wax, trust it' s on, | |
| I' m trying to do for rhyme what digital cameras did for porn, | |
| Born in a small town, die with a big mouth, | |
| Hoods tore it all down, shouts to the kids south. | |
| Chorus | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation, | |
| Pull up a chair, and kick your feet on the table, | |
| Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if you' re able, | |
| We' ve got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations, | |
| It' s the universal language of relaxation. |
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