Besedila pesmi

Opio - For those who don't know

 

 





I told 'em - they wouldn't listen!

I told 'em - I tried to tell 'em

I told 'em - they wouldn't listen!

I told 'em - I tried to tell 'em



Yo, I'm deep in the cosmos, almost light years

But I'm right here, never by queers, it's all old

Dwellin in the chairs of the balcony, shoutin these

vo-cals, so loud, they blow out the whole crowd

Thousand weak minds try to come my way

Only talkin sodomy and gunplay, I'm like a sun ray

Rhymes pure energy, aligns with energy

And some say the chemistry is like the death penalty

It's me, unfair, cause you trapped and snared

in a system designed to collapse you player (look over there)

Mathematicians and astrophysicists

try to calculate my position, I'm on a mission for collision

'til all skyscrapers on the earth quake

Shifting continental plates with my mental straight (great)

I'm a natural, fuckin up your high

like a bad capsule or sniffin ya with crushed glass (oh no)

The hole in





the ozone layer gettin thinner

The world is movin faster, everything is quicker - they wouldn't listen!

I won't slip or fall 'til I hit the hall of fame

Or die in vain, they can't stop the strain

I tried to tell 'em - it was all the same 'til the coppers came

Even Cochran sayin they cain't stop us mayne

I told 'em - they wouldn't listen!

I told 'em - I tried to tell 'em





Bitches hate me; callin me a egomaniac

But women love me; admire how my brain reacts

and adapts to, each situation

Scenarios I'm facin, those lariats and chains

could not restrain, the way I slice through the air

like a kingfish, or a bullet when you squeeze triggers

from the heater sizzler, in the grasp of an insecure man

He'll end up with blood on his hands

Get on the stand start snitchin the intricate details

Cause in jail he's the same as a female!

I tell chicks - YO, send me a e-mail

Just because I'm worldwide, don't blow up my NexTel

Sex sells, so without a video with all them silly hoes

I wonder would he go gold or get ten sales?

Me, I see about thirty thousand

They still be bumpin my shit in urban housing

Now, multiply that by five

You'll see I'm not greedy, rapper survival

So I'm libel to pat your pockets if you don't got my dough

Show promoters like Frasier and Niles

Suckers, manic-depressives, don't try it

We don't need a silencer or a side door

Get stole on and stomped right there on the floor

Hardcore, or hard wood, or linoleum, or carpet

Don't start it, we throwin 'em

Wet 'em up with petroleum then bounce rock skate

to the Waldorf Astoria, with chitlins from Georgia

That want a late night orgy and more euphoria - I told 'em




 

 

 

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