Newspaper
423
Hip-Hop/Rap
Newspaper은(는) {albumName} 앨범에 수록된 곡으로 1996년 4월 1일일에 Epic/Legacy에서 발매되었습니다.F.B.I.
멜로디에 강한 음악
잘 정의된 음악 패턴에 따른 명확하고 기억에 남는 멜로디를 갖춘 곡입니다. 이 척도가 높은 곡은 일반적으로 연주나 보컬 라인이 명확하고 기억에 남는 것이 특징입니다.
어쿠스틱 악기 중심
곡이 전자 음악이나 디지털 합성 음악이 아닌 어쿠스틱 악기(예: 피아노, 기타, 바이올린, 드럼, 색소폰)를 얼마나 많이 사용하는지를 나타내는 척도입니다.
발랑스
곡의 화성과 리듬 요소를 통해 전달되는 음악적 긍정성 또는 감정적 톤입니다. 높은 쾌감은 행복, 흥분, 희열의 감정에 해당하며, 낮은 쾌감은 슬픔, 분노, 우울과 연관됩니다.
춤추기 좋은 음악
템포의 안정성, 리듬 패턴, 비트 강조 등 여러 요인의 조합을 통해 곡이 춤추기에 얼마나 적합한지 정하는 척도입니다. '춤추기 좋은' 곡의 특징은 일정한 템포, 반복적인 음악 구조, 강한 다운비트입니다.
에너지
트랙의 강렬함은 템포, 역동성, 음악적 밀도에 영향을 받을 수 있습니다. 에너지가 높은 곡은 강렬한 리듬과 풍부한 악기 편곡으로 구성되는 반면, 에너지가 낮은 곡은 음악적으로 간결하고 느린 템포가 특징일 수 있습니다.
BPM77
가사
That's right, cut them lights off, we finna ride ****
1996, '97
Ey, it's night time, about 93 degrees
You know how I do it baby
Leavin' **** bloodiest and nuttiest for the 9-6
Mo' blazin', no jason's, my click's be pimps
And we ain't buyin' shit, my 4 deep in the grand prix
System wanna ban me
Harlem green can't stand me so he's lockin' up the family
These coppers wanna beat ya
And they treat ya like they daddy
You sucka muthafucka bash bustas, y'all ain't had me
Sendin' shouts out to the journal
White bitches I don't sleep with ya
Muthafuck your stories still cause you scream rules the media
Hardcore, say no more, fuck you and your newspaper
Momma shoulda fought you
And taught you not to fuck a playa
Talkin' about the black race
You bitches ain't shit but back luck
Should be tryin' to help a ****, instead you fuckin' his name up
Sayin' what you wanna and you gonna cause you richer
Someone gon' get ya
Lyin' ass cause you paint your own picture
Who you think you talkin' to, quit fuckin' with Dayton Avenue
We ain't fearin' shit bitches, not even the boys in blue
Journal, since you know so much, there's no reason, there's no excuse
Tell me who killed Daitrick, Clint, Colt Lewis and that **** Juice
It coulda been a jailbird
They say it was the police force
Hung him like a horse
And beat that boy with no remorse
You're 'bout to have a heart attack
Bitches, J.I. said that
These muthafuckin' **** from these hoods want they corners back
Coppers like the liar's scheme
Po-po's ain't shit but fiends
When it come to fuckin' up another muthafucka's dreams
South boom and ready, fuck the fetti and they petty crime
See me on switches, now these snitches wanna drop a dime
Coppers and trees on they knees as they creeps and crawls
No need to panic but you bustas let 'em squeeze your balls
You're under pressure when they sweat ya so you're talkin' quick
Pissed off your bitch, now she done gave the feds your brick
Your mouth is bigger than a muthafuckin' alligator
So fuck your system
And muthafuck your newspaper
The shit that you do
The shit that you say (Muthafuck your newspaper)
Won't fuck with my mind
Won't fuck up my day (Muthafuck your newspaper)
You keep talkin' shit
Why you catchin' these papers? (Muthafuck your newspaper)
Muthafuck what you thought
And muthafuck your newspaper
Get your mind off Ira's business, maybe you can find you some
Thought Bootleg wasn't comin' back, I bet you bitches feelin' dumb
Makin' **** known cause when I come, I come like horny men
Fuckin' for the first time and ain't gon' never get no ass again
Hoes all in my thunderbird and a bitch don't even know my flavor
Talkin' bout my federal case, spreadin'
Gossip with your friends and neighbors
Bitch, I'm too legit to quit
Breakin' hoes and **** off
You want my click to go
Cause we make your click look weak and soft
You **** piss me off, you know my business like you know your kids
All up in the club, talkin' bout some shit you heard that Ira did
Bitch, I'm just a man that's out here strugglin' to make his pay
Life is hard enough without your rumors standin' in my way
Ira this, Bootleg that, bitch you have been doin' see strokes
Ain't got no life of your own so you can't
Mind around with all these other folks
In the ghetto it's no joke
Crabs in the bucket thang
When you try to get ahead they pull
You down, that ain't gon' never change
I used to be naive
Get caught up with what these bitches think
What these bitches think, didn't put no food on dishes in my sink
Dissin' me like I-C-E C-U-B-E publicity
Why you in my business, that one fact remains a mystery
Chemistry to diss a G
Why you playa hatin' me
That killa with big that's everything your bitch ass wanna be
You rappin' styles I used to rap
Tappin' hoes I been did tap
Dayday never changed, we put this muthafucka on the map
Muthafuck your talkin', stalkin', hawkin' like a playa hater
I fucked your sister and fuck you
And muthafuck your newspaper
The shit that you do
The shit that you say
Won't fuck with my mind
Won't fuck up my day
You keep talkin' shit
Why you catchin' these papers?
Muthafuck what you thought
And muthafuck your newspaper
Written by: Ira Dorsey, Raheen Petterson, Steve Pitts
