Stereo Types – Claymore & Mike Mass: teksty utworów, teledyski i koncerty

Claymore & Mike Mass

Stereo Types

1

Hip-Hop/Rap

Utwór Stereo Types został wydany 11 września 2021 przez Wave Theory/Claymore Industries jako część albumu Mass Effects 2

Szczegóły utworu

AlbumMass Effects 2

Data wydania11 września 2021

WytwórniaWave Theory/Claymore Industries

JęzykEnglish

Melodyjność

Akustyczność

Valence

Taneczność

Energia

BPM83

PRZEGLĄD

TEKST UTWORU

Teledysk

Teledysk

Kredyty

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Claymore

Background Vocals, Lead Vocals, Rap

Mike Mass

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Claymore

Lyrics, Arranger

Mike Mass

Composer, Arranger

Clayton Jones

Songwriter

Mike O'Halloran

Mike O'Halloran

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Claymore

Mixing Engineer, Mastering Engineer, Recording Engineer

Mike Mass

Producer

Tekst Utworu

(verse 1: Claymore)

Welcome, brothaman, to my weird, whimsical wonderland

From a Southern land where they peel pistols and run your bands

Far from home plate with the base they pitch underhand

To make you understand, I’ll be coming up with another plan//

A digital manifestation of physical rubber bands

To stretch out all my cash from Japan down to the motherland

Undercover Brother, make it clap like it’s thunder

Cause I’m black, stacking bundles is the struggle for the coloured man//

If I untuck and I gun buck you, it's Son of Sam

Sawed-off pump and some nunchucks in my other hand

It's not a guarantee that, one’ll snuff you, but some'll land

Leave you bludgeoned, man, like Undertaker at SummerSlam//

Uppercut your gut till you double over and crumble flat

Like a crumpled rag, when i’m sucker-punching the mumble raps

Life’s a “marathon”, and I huff and puff as I’m running laps

Stepping up my “hussle” to “Double Up” with a couple “racks”//

(bridge 1: Claymore)

This ain't for the radio, or the stereo types

Told Jesus, take the wheel if I ain't steering it right

You can visualise my vocals so you hearing my sight

So when I spit a fucking verse, I put my ear to the mike//

See, this what I was thinking as I peer through the night

I’m a bullet made of darkness that’ll pierce through the light

Intimidate my peers and have them fearing my might

Hold a pistol in my left hand, a spear in my right

(verse 2: Claymore)

It go, who, where, ****, what, how, why

****, jump when a brotha tell 'em jump, how high

Bitch, I'm tougher than some leather, kinda rough, cowhide

And if a brotha acting snide, then he get snuck outside//

You not ringing any bells, just getting your bell rung

I’m a big swinging dick, consider me well hung

While i’m suspended from the ceiling and dangle till hell come

As I’m spinning round in circles like waves in a maelstrom//

I wanna hydroplane on a plane full of hydro

Comfy in my skin, wouldn’t change with vitiligo

Cut from this cloth, but got these stains up in my clothes

I’m reaping what I’m sewing, like they say up in the Bible//

Your face type bold, but your words is all cap

Lean you like italics with verbs like long gats

The cabin in the woods where I murder you all, splat

No virgins, you’re all, fucked, that’s word to my ball, sack//

Met this woman who look kinda like a pic on a calendar

Said “quick, let a **** take a flick on the camera”

Was thinking, “say, this bitch is kinda thick”

Then she licking on the dick,

Hit the skins and then I split, like bananas//

So I’m a pimp in a circus trying to turn another trick

With a bitch that says she's working, but she's twerking on the stick

As much as this shit hurts, shit not worth a fucking cent

So I cursed the ho out, and thus, I burned another bridge//

(bridge 2: Claymore)

Bitch, I’m here to give you more, shit that you was wishing for

Having **** witnessing the difference when I kick the raw

-ness for which I get applause, this is why they bitchin’ for

Moving just like Biggie Smalls’ spirit when I kick in doors//

(verse 3: Claymore)

My name is Claymore, bitch, I'm beaucoup nice

And I don't do a fucking thing for no YouTube likes

Bitch, there’s not a single member of your crew who’s tight

And plus a **** flow as crazy as the cuckoo’s flight//

Itty-bitty, slim, are the chances for if a **** win

But I think I’ll skim by on the hair on my chin chinny-chin

Twin titties swim on the women when I get into them

While patience getting thin, and I sit with a big shitty grin//

So thus, the place that I reside is in the basement

While I’m waiting on fate to decide my final placement

I been sound-surfing, ****, trying to ride the wave's length

All just to buy time and then ponder on how my days spent//

(bridge 3: Claymore)

Thinking bout this shit has got me hanging from the chandeliers

All these lights and plenty action, but no cameras here

No cannons here, so just relax and grab a can of beer

Because I don’t want no fucking drama in my land of cheer//

(verse 4: Claymore)

I’ma wear a monocle like Mr. Monopoly

And bring 300 soldiers just to visit Thermopylae

Unrefined product, I'm a different commodity

No Joe Exotic shit, but I'm considered an oddity//

Don’t think that I’m possessed unless I missed an apostrophe

Demons on my ass, hope you kiss it goodbye for me

If I had half a brain, I would get a lobotomy

To exorcise the devils that been living inside of me//

The spirits of my an-cestors shipped to the colonies

To the places we reside that we once lived in as property

First past the post, I'm addressing it properly

That the system that we given, I consider a mockery//

Going up in flames, like the bombing at Lockerbie,

Scotland, with the topics you can feel in your bodily

Cavities, the product you distribute on blocks with the

Possibility of getting killed by a cop// (gunshot)

Written by: Claymore, Clayton Jones, Mike Mass, Mike O'Halloran

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