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Ryan Biracree - Текст песни Honest Expression
(Voice sample:)
 "Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself. It is easy for
 me to put on a show, and be cocky so I can show you some really fancy
 movement. But to express oneself honestly, not lying to oneself, and to
 express myself honestly enough; that my friend is very hard to do."
 (Verse 1)
 Like sand through the hourglass
 So are the days of our lives
 And for that lie, only we thrive
 Awakenings, as we make the dead come alive
 Rise and walk my son, come into the light
 Inside the dark, we illuminate mics
 Give knowledge to mediocre, the will to Neanderthal
 Filter to the smog, digital to analog
 We steady advancing, rhyme enhancing
 Simple minds can't keep up with this
 (Verse 2)
 I'm a put it on the table
 I ain't a thug nigga and playa
 I ain't playful, I'm jus' a non-sinner
 A man without label, standin' on my own two
 Tryin' to stay stable
 Speakin' what I know, to only what I label
 I ain't the kinda guy who carry out for dough
 The material cat who walk around for show
 I'm jus' everyday, merry-way Joe-in-the-go
 While other's go wit' the flow
 I ain't never been the one to follow trend
 I do my own bit, can't keep up with the Joneses
 I'm on my own shit, I don't care what you drink
 What you stress, how you dress, or where you got the link
 I ain't impressed
 These lames walk around like mice in the maze
 Tryin' to get up on cheese, its just a rap race
 One escapes time seems to make
 Man worships things over the supreme thing
 A stop for lots, should I join the hypocrites
 Or side with the suckers, by choice
 It makes no difference, that you're a product of environment
 Is just coincidence, the world's a violent place baby
 There ain't no more innocence, or civil men of penitence
 Just ignorance, casting the right from wrong
 They mimic shit they see on TV or hear in a song
 What they tell you they on, a sucker act up every minute
 The righteous live on, but them niggas is invented
 (Verse 3)
 Yo, I ain't hardcore, I don't pack a nine millimeter
 Most a y'all gangsta rappers ain't hardcore neither
 Whoever get mad, then I'm talkin' 'bout you
 Claim you fear no man, but never walk wit' our crew
 Where I'm from, your reputation don't mean jack
 So what, you pack gats and you sell fiends crack
 You ain't big time, my man
 You ain't no different from the next cat in my neighborhood who did time
 Rhyme after rhymes it's the same topic
 What make you think you hardcore 'cause you was raised in the projects
 Broke-ass finally got a hundred in your pocket
 Now you on the mic, spittin' money's no object
 What you say is bullcrap, if you wasn't wit' your crew
 Or wasn't drunk off the brew, would you still pull gats?
 You need to stop fronting or you headed for self-destructionRyan Biracree - Honest Expression - http://ru.motolyrics.com/ryan-biracree/honest-expression-lyrics.html
 Yeah, today's topic, is self-destruction
 I ain't talkin' 'bout the KRS-One discussion
 I'm talkin' 'bout the one-too-many ignorant suckers
 Lyin' on the mic to my sisters and brothers
 Every time you listen to the radio
 All you hear is nonsense, they never play the bomb shit
 Everything that glitters ain't gold
 And every gold record don't glitter, that's for damn sure
 (Scratching Voices:)
 "Y'all need to be cool as shit"
 "Tryin' to teach you from the heart"
 "Y'all rambling on, and ain't sayin' nothing"
 "I'm busy in the mind"
 "I'm a go invent, I think I'll elevate my mental"
 (Interlude)
 Yo, see cats got confused somewhere man (confused)
 About what hip-hop was, you know what I'm sayin'
 Or what hip-hop is, (it's business yo) you know it
 It's all business
 (its big money, know what I'm sayin' that's all these cats about)
 You know that's bullshit, right? That's nigga talk, nigga talk
 But if you want to make money yo, I got it broke down though
 I got it broke down, (break it down yo)
 You got hip-hop, then you got hip-pop
 Hip-pop? (hip-pop)
 Alright, (but a lot of cats want pop)
 Yes, (know what I'm sayin')
 It used to be real hip
 You got the top forty version of hip-hop
 I still got something else, something else that I wanna get off my chest
 What? (know what I'm sayin'?)
 (Verse 4)
 How many cats you know
 Speak the ill-legit rhyme after rhyme diligent
 Eighty-five percent represent ignorant
 Either you innocent or guilty
 Some of my favorite emcees fell of
 It damn near killed me
 Lookin' at the kids that was true hip-pop
 Nowadays them cats don't even do hip-hop
 Rap got 'em brainwashed, with cats that don't last
 And five minutes of fame, that's when it's a shame
 Seein' real emcees tryin' to imitate rappers
 If you ask me, they goin' out ass-backwards
 Trading in respect to push a fat Lex'
 Puff rhymin' on the remix, what's next?
 It hurts so bad, I wanna smack 'em
 My favorite crew members break up
 Turn around and join whack ones
 This is dedicated to you hip-hop hypocrites
 Droppin' whack songs, like you don't give a shit
 I ain't got nothin' against nobody trying to make a decent living
 It ain't the money that's the issue
 Only if that's the reason why these cats ain't makin' decent music
 That's when I got beef wit' you
 And I'm a bring it to you like never
 Go ahead, call me player-hater if it make you feel better
 Try to jump my crew if you cats feel boggy
 You need to wake up, and smell the damn coffee
 Know what I'm sayin', these whack emcees...










