P.O.W.'s은(는) {albumName} 앨범에 수록된 곡으로 2005년 1월 1일일에 Psycho+Logical-Records에서 발매되었습니다.Sabacolypse
BPM85
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.
가사
Super-civil arrest blast your Teflon vest bastards
Hyde, distressed terrorist, the methodists of death bitch
Incorrect politically, linguistically I'm lethal
Yo check my history, it ain't no mystery to people
The governor of grit, I'll have your mother sucking dick
Fucking rubbing on her clit until she's bludgeoned by a brick
Yo to hell with secret service men, my burner stay disturbing them
They turn into my servants when my urgent says to murder them
All anarchists are loving it, while stubborn feds are bugging it
Your government's discovered, cut to pieces in my cupboard kid
I'll tarnish you with carnage, now your sergeant's paying homage
Got Bin Laden and Saddam wrapped in bondage in the garbage
My knife's out so stand back, the White House is ransacked
You strive out the anthrax, choke life out your grandpaps
The torture is immense, caught you crawling out your vents
The gore that Hyde invents, put dents in your defense
I'm like Malcolm when he came back from Mecca, not a racist
And when they come to kill me at my
Speech, I'll shoot 'em in their faces
I've lived a life of aggravation, contempt and lacerations
So I'm exempt from assassination attempts
Attack you like airborne pilots, beat you like General Cornwallis
You cornballs are minimal, adjust your eyelids private
Ending your squadron, run up on you like Benjamin Martin
With the Indian acts peeling your skin back for starting
I'll start a revolution with this rugged rhyme
But fuck The Source cover, I want my face on the cover of Time
You Benedict Arnold's will be smoking crack like bridges
We're burning bridges so you can't
Cross 'em 'cause our militia's vicious
The thirteen colonies bring it to you, get on the horse
We'll be ripping your chest 'til there's
Stitch in your flesh like Betsy Ross
Images of onslaught, cadavers and bleeding
I give a shout out to the soldiers that fought so I could have freedom
Back to war on the return trip, burning my psyche
Extracting the passion from the pores of Christ, it's pricey
Nuclear frost, California first to break off
Space cowboys, 30 CC's ready for take off
Lieutenant's tank, holding my rank, we climb skyports
Islamic amputees disguised as cyborgs
I was born to die, the first martyr
Torn from a place with burnt buildings and no father
Raise your etiquette of war face, fortunes to make, more to Kuwait
Grenades tossed, I threw the corpse in the lake, it's more cake
Revolution 9, New York quake, state of emergency
Bridges and tunnels, this underworld is a murder spree
Fucking with G, World Trade in the cloud
Terror network, I'm still smelling people downtown
Rice and teargas, the Yin and the Yang, dead in the fear
10 To 15, you'll watch the den of Heaven appear
They held me captive, I was being bludgeoned and starved
Seeing stars half a day from an introduction to God
There were scars on my flesh, my whole mind was destroyed
Hardest test of my life, the kind I try to avoid
I heard voices in my sleep, one night a visitor spoke
Quoting The Art of War, the voice had given me hope
Broke out of sweat, grabbed the TEC, shot my way to freedom
Hundreds die for their lives, and now I've got you beaten
I'm defeating any enemy that comes in my path
Whether political or criminal, I let the guns blast
Come with mass like Marcos, and Brooklyn's my Chiapas
Waging war against police, they can't look me in the optics
Sabac is equivalent to the object of militance
Consider this your option with your lots of ambivalence
I'm committed and diligent, equipped with the killer shit
The oppressor's nightmare, if I talk it I'm living it
I robbed at Auschwitz, I was tattooed with numbers for labor
Kids, babies and mothers were sent directly to gas chambers
Stepping out of freight cars sorted by age and profession
The weather and now you're capable of working the slave labor
Children and elderly people were the first to be taken
To shower rooms and exterminated then burnt to cremation
The rest of us kept behind an electric fence, shaved heads
Starving and working to death then perished by days end
Truthfully, we were the lucky ones, the fortunate
I remember stories of the ways that Doctor Mengele used to torture men
Children and pregnant women, unspeakable horrors
Six million martyrs from your Shiva to surgery with no anesthesia
I'm a prisoner of war and religion
A prisoner of Nazi Germany, I'm caught in the system
With dreams of torturing Hitler with blow torches and pistols
For every Jew that died, I survived, my story continues
Written by: Sabac
