F**k Dat
3,596
Hip-Hop/Rap
F**k Dat은(는) {albumName} 앨범에 수록된 곡으로 1998년 6월 2일일에 Def Jam Recordings에서 발매되었습니다.Shut 'Em Down
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.
BPM89
크레딧
실연 아티스트
Onyx
실연자
X-1
실연자
Bubba Smith
실연자
J Mega
실연자
Greg Valentine
실연자
Sunshine
실연자
작곡 및 작사
Tyrone Taylor
작사가 겸 작곡가
Fred Scruggs
작사가 겸 작곡가
Sticky Fingaz
작사가 겸 작곡가
B. Sandlin
작사가 겸 작곡가
Edward Hinson
작사가 겸 작곡가
프로덕션 및 엔지니어링
sElf
프로듀서
Don Elliott
믹싱 엔지니어
DJ LS ONE
믹싱 엔지니어
가사
Yo! Turn that shit up, word up!
Afficial Nasty ****...Fuck Dat!
Ya **** is dead-ass!
Know what I'm sayin'?
We're payin' my **** ' All City 'n shit!
Word up! Yo Mega, Fuck Dat!
Rip that Brooklyn shit ****!
What? What? What? What? What? What?
My fleet goals, by da creep cold
We blaze, y'all won't see those, you just feel 'em
We raise the states in this game, like helium
The new millenium, got me in mo' for killin' 'em
Green backs, I want a mil (of) 'em!
But don't minimum, strictly max out, the ol's put the black out
**** be frontin', we take the back route
Now stay with that style, original, wanna act wild?
City puttin' cartracks out, as we stack now
We're nuthin' to match out, formula
See it clearly through my corner-ya
This goes out to **** on the corner, Mega's on ya
Rap performer, no diploma, I'm sippin' on Corona, keep my carpet Coma
The East New York Soldier, what?
(Fuck Dat! That's the All City shit!
Yo Greg Valentine!)
The beats be Rushen like Patrice
You better had that bulletproof vest under ya fleece
Then a clever sceam up ya slees, we has to say da least
Between the thugs and the police, shit'll never be peace
Cause holiday, raise ya weights ya hourly rate
We poly for higher states, buyin' fire escapes
See this, criminal life is like a 'roll it in dice'
**** holdin' they ice, wild bust on a slice
Yo it's too often too hot, in this ghetto meldin' pot
Put out these fagat ass **** try to steel what I got
As if, that ain't enough, for Jakes is ratin' the spot
Where we eat at, but tonight that's where they bleed at
That belone her with the flame, throwin' their rain, it's over
Prayed to Jehova, jiggaz up, the game's over
(All City what, All City what?! Fuck Dat!
Yo Sticky) {wassup ****?}( Come here ****, Fuck Dat!
Let these muthafuckaz know ****!!!) {I want some NEW SHIT!}
(Afficial Nast! What?!!)
Oh ooh, here the thug come, from out the dungeon
Say goodbye to ya love one, you can't run from, the dum-dum
Kickin' WACK SHIT! I cut out ya tongue son!
I'm in this rap shit for the lump sum
Hit the stage as soon as the blunt's done
YOU DON'T WANT NONE! But regardless
We the wildest, you get demolished
I muthafuckin', muthafuckin' murder, want charges!
Walkin' targets, kill any rap artist!
Still hate ya GUTS!, and hope that ya DIE!
If you not a ally, then yo ass gotta fry
Two lifes for a life without no remorse
You fucked up BIG TIME, you should've finished me off ****!
(What?! Fuck Dat! Fuck Dat!
Afficial Nast what up?!
Yo Lefty, I got a new **** for ya ****!
Yo Fuck Dat! Step up and shit....)
I roll with gat-swingers, that bay arms like tanktops
A bunch of problem bringers, that an ass bet ya wanna make your bank stop
Guaranteed to make ya block hot, we runnin' the spots
We're tired of jizzle 'n rocks, we straight up fuckin' in villains or jachts
Got the Big Apple on smash like mobbs, we're livin' hell really?!
So we just vanish 'n rob, paper tellin' me we all dyin' from a leg docs(?)
So fuck it, it's even get it get-got, so what?!
Bring it, I'm closin' now shut, I don't give a FUCK about gettin' popped
Them thugs probably heard, left these two guns is al lot!
It's my time to go, playa, I'm tryin' to go spittin' you
For the dolies, **** just press G-O
While shoot outs, reachin' for the Glocks, on my way to gettin' drugs
Still spittin' ya, 3-60 pill, I was drugged up, in a sixth still SHITTIN' ya
Call it murder, besides anybody TRY to here missin'
(Fuck Dat! Yo X -1 ****!) {What ****?}
(Ya betta fuckin' do this shit ****!) {What what, what, what?!}
(Fuck Dat! Afficial Nasty ****!
Fuckin' takin' this streets! That **** is dead!)
All you crack ****, I don't even like your style
If it wasn't for love, you be dead right now
Speak upon the gun nor, X is layin' it down
Dirty two rounds, sprayin' ya town
Takin' dirt back under the ground, be a man, take ya laws
Die with the sacred course, six's bein' deep on the basic floors
(They hate that shit ****! What?!
Kick the our fuckin' shit! Fuck Dat!)
Be a hard rock and see where you end up 'bout
Before my hart stops, kid I'm tryin' to see some jacks
You better get dropped dog, just read the facts
Dig a gunshot, at least about bringin' you back
I run in cold spots, or walk that for liquid cats
X critical source, with criminal thoughts, under the physical laws
Your visual lost, X-million now, **** tripple the course
I cripple your boss, what?!!
Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast ****!
Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast ****!
Fuck Dat! Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast ****!
Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast ****!
Word up! Fuckin' All City!
Muthafuckin' Onyx!
Muthafuckin' Fredro Starr talkin' to you ****!
Fuckin' Sonsee ****! What da fuck is up?!
Yo Sticky, wassup ****?! Gangreen in this muthafucka!
Bubba Smith 'n shit! Back da fuck up, everybody up!!
My **** too dirty up in this muthafucka! (Know what I'm sayin?!)
DJ LS, Afficial Nast ****! Fuck any DJ,yo Fuck Dat! (Any DJ ****! Afficial Nast!)
Word up, Fuck Dat! **** don't know! My muthafuckin' broher is sayin', Fuck Dat!
Big Chris, Fuck Dat! **** ain't seein' shit! Afficial Nast! Yo eat 'em up!
Get da fuck up outta here! (*Car rushin' away*)
Written by: B. Sandlin, Edward Hinson, Fred Scruggs, Sticky Fingaz, Tyrone Taylor

