Stomp
2,124
Hip-Hop/Rap
Stompは、アルバム『{albumName}』の一部として1996年12月3日にProphet EntertainmentによりリリースされましたThe End
メロディック度
楽曲がどれだけ明確で覚えやすいメロディを持ち、はっきりとした音楽パターンに沿っているかを示します。メロディック度が高い楽曲は、わかりやすく印象に残る楽器やボーカルラインが特徴です。
アコースティック度
楽曲が、電子楽器やデジタル合成音の代わりに、どの程度アコースティック楽器(ピアノ、ギター、バイオリン、ドラム、サックスなど)に依存しているかを示します。
ヴァランス
楽曲のハーモニーやリズムによって伝わる音楽的なポジティブ度や感情的トーンを示します。値が高いほど幸福感、興奮、陶酔などの感情を表し、低いほど悲しみ、怒り、憂鬱などの感情を表します。
ダンサビリティ
テンポの安定性、リズムパターン、ビートの強調などの要素を組み合わせて、楽曲が踊りやすいかどうかを示します。ダンス向きの楽曲は、一定のテンポ、反復的な音楽構造、強いダウンビートを持つ傾向があります。
エネルギー
楽曲の知覚される強さを示し、テンポ、音量の変化、音の密度などによって影響されます。エネルギーが高い曲は、力強いリズムや密度の高い編成を特徴とし、エネルギーが低い曲は、音の間隔が広く、テンポもゆったりとした構成になる傾向があります。
BPM80
ミュージックビデオ
ミュージックビデオ
クレジット
PERFORMING ARTISTS
DJ Paul
Vocals
Juicy J
Vocals
Koopsta Knicca
Vocals
Lord Infamous
Vocals
Slicse Tee
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher Bridges
Lyrics
Jordan Houston
Composer
Paul Beauregard
Composer
David Darnell Brown
Lyrics
J. Taylor
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Paul
Producer
Juicy J
Producer
Larry Nix
Mastering Engineer
歌詞
Voices in them trees
These are the things that help me vision these evil most things
Me and DJ Paul we got the hook up, finna go stick
Me on the passenger side, loc took a slight peek through the window
Something's creepin' up slow, it was this Lotus driven by this ho
So I'm sippin' on me Rémy, hopin' it won't cross my roadies attention
Not only was you in it, yet another **** drivin'
Paul stopped the car, said: "won't you buck 'em rough, Koopsta?"
Shirt, I know ya hurt, take them birches back, take 'em back with them slugs
Sad to see you gone, son, teflons in your creds
Mister caugth 'em in dreads, yeah, Koopsta got 'em scared
Want prophitin' shit see that's what you get for talkin' shit
Trick, I'll drop you in a splunder, cut you up like Jeffrey Dahmer, biatch
Come, come, who the fuck, they want some
**** want to jump, jump, get you make a pump, pump
Scarecrow, me shall bump, bump off a **** fakin'
Go into a rage and bitches tremble and shakin'
Rump rump shakin', Mafioso rude boy
Me will act a fool, boy, me don't give a damn if you're fuckin' red or blue boy
Cut 'em by the waistline, flowin' on this bassline
Lord Infamous don't waste time when me gotta get mine
You know what I want, why you usin' the guessin'?
Storm on this bitch like some new years confetti
Astronomical Triple 6 ride space on top of asteroids
Comin' to rip up the shore, we kill all the folks, don't act a fool, boy
Stomp, motherfucker, stomp, motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)
How long ago? Deep in the North where **** stay drunk and smoke Newports
From Marble St.with all of my peeps, I used to scratch and program beats
I made a mix with real deep bass at Northside High, be slangin' tapes
DJ'ing this shit tryna make it and shit, totin' they speakers and stack they crates
Studio G was the place to be
Where all jocks were tryin' to get the chance get on the tables and spin
A fool kept tryin' I never could quit, the club was packed from wall to wall
The gangsta walk is what we called
When **** got buck in a circle and danced and dared a fool, to slip and fall
We tore up the club and showed no love, just throwin' our fists and gettin' real buck
They might been fight later on the night 'cause Memphis players don't give a fuck
Security jumped, we smack the punks for throwin' us out for smokin' a blunt
The number one song, had just came on
And now it's time to fuckin' stomp
Three 6 in the motherfuckin' house, fizzinna peel yo
Motherfuckin' skin back, it's the fuckin' steelo
On your fuckin' ass, we can't brag 'cause we comin' up
Robbers on my ass, should I blast? 'Cause they runnin' up
Maybe it's my friend, but then them friends will turn too yo
With the SIG Sauer 9, boy, I come to kick doors
I stick those bitches in my trunk and now we back to my hood
The one on the left ain't die yet, but he wishin' he would
Wasn't in the mood for this buck shit
But these **** just had to creep and boy, they stupid as it
I leave these hoes for a permanent sleep
And now we out to the club, we gotta get em' up
Triple 6 and Prophet Posse, y'all know we makin' 'em stomp
Stomp, motherfucker, stomp, motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)
(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)
X
Written by: C. Harris Jr, Christopher Bridges, D. Brown, Jordan Houston, P. Beauregard


