Songtext zu 'When It Rains' von Zu Ninjaz

My muthafuckin' brother came up to me...
He said my shit will sound corny...
I said... Right... Right...
My nigga irie in this muthafucka...
Popa chief in this muthafucka...
K-blunt in this muthafucka...
White boy engineer in this muthafucka...
I got my niggas in this muthafucka...
P in this muthafucka...
12 O'clock in this muthafucka...
Fly...

I shoot on right on through space like john clemm
The original bad boy, son, like sean penn
Correspondent on news 10
12 O'clock called me a brother then
Sometime my life be looking grim
If it wasn't for time, I'd be stuck in sin
To be different and set trends

I rock tommy hill gold and write with buddha monk
Pens, wearing wu-wear from the head to the shins
Put on my polo socks and lace up my blue timbs
I clean my italian link with the scorpio medallion
My ghetto life, that's how my day begins
My cousin compton, that's my next to kin
He said I'm too hunt, too much adrenaline

I got a ninja team that gleam like the sun dipped in afro sheen
Redrummin' tracks, that'll rumpture your spleen
It's the major leaguers, givin' party fevers
At equal oppurtunity slayers, we don't discriminate
It's time to up the party, grab my height to obliverate
Can I bang on your eardrums with this one, it's a hit son
You should've never dissed the champion, dunn
That's like doing a juks and fumbling your gun

That's like, bagging a million cracks up and only selling one
Ya'll politic a nigga like me, politate
The most shockinest raps you ever, heard on tape
Play us here, some to hate, I process seaweed
Told you we was gonna be somebody, you didn't believe me
Silverback gorilla style, two-way ship piles
All over the world catching frequent flyer miles
Check a nigga out, eat your fucking heart out
Everybody cop a dub, let's have a cookout

The moment we been longing for, living for
Training for, fuck what you heard, it's all about the transfers
And we refuse to be, have nots anymore
Give me the mic and score, when it rains, it pours
While I rap and cap, I blow with a bat, cockin' it back
With a battle axe, my firery vocals melts the wax
I slaughter your tape recorder, message holds the leverage
Tipsy off my rhymes, like an alcoholic beverage

I stand on the platform, control this all alone
Platinum microphone with a solid gold throne
I bomb on your village, have your city overthrown
Pen's hotter than skillets, engrave my lyrics into stone
Yo, we thug shit, crip with blood shit, bust slugs shit
Lay you down with the four-pound, I'm on some thug shit
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo hold on
Yo, this is for the radio!

Let's make a motion picture, put zu in a haunted house
Nigga change to old gold, and case of guiness stout
Forty blunts each, nigga mouth laced up
Put the stakes up, rock the door, brought the windows up
Handcuffed to each other, silver plate mixed with coke & dust
It's digital, shit getting critical
Trying to escape, but no way, I'm in the castle
Surrounded by a lake, alligators & rottweilers, and the fruit to swallow
Naked bitch in a basement, it make no sense
It's senseless, paranoid and recorded before
Making noise, me and my boys, playing hood like ice cube

You heard? We be them special ninjaz
Self employed, self educated
Mad years we waited, for the oppurtunity
Who working these mic's for me?
If tonight is my night, super nigga eat the kryptonite
Vision complete, this the hour that we'll face defeat
War, scars, rhymes be falling like stars
Nigga think big, be big