Spraypaint and Ink Pens - Lupe Fiasco/Knightros.lrc

LRC歌词下载

[00:06.315]Uh, spray paint and ink pens
[00:08.634]I use to write in every color I think in
[00:10.988]To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
[00:13.874]Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
[00:19.461]Yeah, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest for you this evening
[00:23.913]Ghost, you ready?
[00:24.712]Yo, I verbally paint pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller
[00:28.228]This about a young boy dealin' with the older fellas
[00:30.668]Promised him the lives he seen on TV
[00:32.534]He ran packs across town like rhyme CDs
[00:34.964]And big chains, new clothes, Nikes and Reeboks
[00:37.708]Stackin' too much loot to squeeze in a shoe box
[00:40.095]Saving, he promised his Mom a crib in Atlanta
[00:42.384]And his pops got killed through debt, he was a dealer
[00:44.790]So he staged jazz, fox jump off the suit cases
[00:47.240]No more cross-town, now he's crossin' them states and
[00:49.840]Seeing new faces, not knowing who to trust
[00:52.115]So when the door kicked open they screamed, "This is a bust"
[00:54.316]"Is it a set up?" it seemed funny, a scuffle broke out
[00:56.898]He got hit, dropped the cases spittin' blood out of his mouth
[00:59.179]He walked four blocks to die, trying to survive
[01:01.586]And now all that's left is his mom screamin', "God why?"
[01:04.393]Uh, spray paint and ink pens
[01:06.549]I use to write in every color I think in
[01:09.118]To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
[01:11.541]Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
[01:20.178]Yeah, yeah
[01:23.598]Let me begin by sayin'...
[01:24.841]Shut the **** up!
[01:25.851]Let my begin by sayin' I don't think this man knew what he had in store
[01:29.774]He opened the door and found the bag under the floor
[01:31.833]Not a peep while he's workin' the lock
[01:33.792]Get the flame, aim, pop open the box and take off
[01:36.788]Out the back of the pawn shop
[01:38.336]Scoping the lot, hoping the cops hadn't seen the plates on his car
[01:42.333]He felt like he been hustling so hard
[01:44.578]Like a demon he pumped a cold heart
[01:47.010]Play it cool like Humphrey Bogart
[01:48.914]Put the rings on his chain attached by both parts
[01:51.593]He did the drop, one ring in a bag
[01:53.723]Envelope, all the money he had
[01:55.720]Left the money and the ring in a slow exhale
[01:58.253]Two weeks went by, got a box in the mail
[02:00.430]In the box was a bullet made of gold
[02:02.593]Melted down from the ring, recast with two rings and a band
[02:05.890]And he stared at it, sitting in the palm of his hand
[02:08.276]And sat down next to a picture that sat on the nightstand
[02:10.868]It was his wife in the picture on his side
[02:13.326]With the ring on the finger on the week that she died
[02:15.534]As he looked in the reflection at those eyes so red
[02:17.984]He put the bullet in a gun and put it right in his head
[02:20.403]Like that
[02:21.106]Uh, spray paint and ink pens
[02:23.056]I use to write in every color I think in
[02:25.484]To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
[02:27.888]Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
[02:34.166]Yeah
[02:35.136]Yeh
[02:39.467]Fiasco!
[02:40.361]He knew that he didn't have enough power in his thrusters
[02:42.548]To muster warp 5
[02:43.728]Plus if he pushed it the fuel cells could rupture
[02:46.133]Then they would die
[02:47.283]Then the galaxy would suffer but he knew he had to try
[02:49.497]But he couldn't risk it
[02:50.932]Put the cure in the escape pod and kissed it
[02:53.241]And told her goodbye
[02:54.282]She started to cry
[02:55.458]But he knew if he could distract 'em, he could buy her some time
[02:58.094]And she could make it out alive
[02:59.401]Turn the suit around and got prepared for the stand off
[03:02.214]Space mine had blew one of the hands off
[03:04.242]Damaged laser cannons and he got the system jammed
[03:06.400]And he faced the whole fleet, blood seeping through his teeth
[03:09.010]The final saga in the Seven Planet Wars
[03:11.508]Unsheethed the sword and then he charged forward
[03:13.975]His eyes flashed behind the cracked cockpit glass
[03:16.602]He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a blast like...
[03:19.100]Uh, spray paint and ink pens
[03:21.381]I use to write in every color I think in
[03:23.762]To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
[03:26.050]Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
[03:30.373]Yeah. Ladies and gentlemen, this has been a Fort Minor production
[03:36.705]Ghostface! Fiasco!
[03:38.706]Uh, spraypaint and ink pens

文本歌词

Uh, spray paint and ink pens
I use to write in every color I think in
To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
Yeah, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest for you this evening
Ghost, you ready?
Yo, I verbally paint pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller
This about a young boy dealin' with the older fellas
Promised him the lives he seen on TV
He ran packs across town like rhyme CDs
And big chains, new clothes, Nikes and Reeboks
Stackin' too much loot to squeeze in a shoe box
Saving, he promised his Mom a crib in Atlanta
And his pops got killed through debt, he was a dealer
So he staged jazz, fox jump off the suit cases
No more cross-town, now he's crossin' them states and
Seeing new faces, not knowing who to trust
So when the door kicked open they screamed, "This is a bust"
"Is it a set up?" it seemed funny, a scuffle broke out
He got hit, dropped the cases spittin' blood out of his mouth
He walked four blocks to die, trying to survive
And now all that's left is his mom screamin', "God why?"
Uh, spray paint and ink pens
I use to write in every color I think in
To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
Yeah, yeah
Let me begin by sayin'...
Shut the **** up!
Let my begin by sayin' I don't think this man knew what he had in store
He opened the door and found the bag under the floor
Not a peep while he's workin' the lock
Get the flame, aim, pop open the box and take off
Out the back of the pawn shop
Scoping the lot, hoping the cops hadn't seen the plates on his car
He felt like he been hustling so hard
Like a demon he pumped a cold heart
Play it cool like Humphrey Bogart
Put the rings on his chain attached by both parts
He did the drop, one ring in a bag
Envelope, all the money he had
Left the money and the ring in a slow exhale
Two weeks went by, got a box in the mail
In the box was a bullet made of gold
Melted down from the ring, recast with two rings and a band
And he stared at it, sitting in the palm of his hand
And sat down next to a picture that sat on the nightstand
It was his wife in the picture on his side
With the ring on the finger on the week that she died
As he looked in the reflection at those eyes so red
He put the bullet in a gun and put it right in his head
Like that
Uh, spray paint and ink pens
I use to write in every color I think in
To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
Yeah
Yeh
Fiasco!
He knew that he didn't have enough power in his thrusters
To muster warp 5
Plus if he pushed it the fuel cells could rupture
Then they would die
Then the galaxy would suffer but he knew he had to try
But he couldn't risk it
Put the cure in the escape pod and kissed it
And told her goodbye
She started to cry
But he knew if he could distract 'em, he could buy her some time
And she could make it out alive
Turn the suit around and got prepared for the stand off
Space mine had blew one of the hands off
Damaged laser cannons and he got the system jammed
And he faced the whole fleet, blood seeping through his teeth
The final saga in the Seven Planet Wars
Unsheethed the sword and then he charged forward
His eyes flashed behind the cracked cockpit glass
He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a blast like...
Uh, spray paint and ink pens
I use to write in every color I think in
To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I
Yeah. Ladies and gentlemen, this has been a Fort Minor production
Ghostface! Fiasco!
Uh, spraypaint and ink pens