This Year - Contact Play: letras de canções, vídeos de música e concertos

This Year

240

Hip-Hop/Rap

This Year foi lançado em 19 de julho de 2011 por High Focus Records como parte do álbum Champion Fraff

Detalhes da canção

ÁlbumChampion Fraff

Data de lançamento19 de julho de 2011

EditoraHigh Focus Records

IdiomaEnglish

Melodicidade

Acústica

Valência

Dançabilidade

Energia

BPM97

DESCRIÇÃO GERAL

LETRA

Vídeo de música

Vídeo de música

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Contact Play

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Adrian Ernst

Composer

Jacob Lloyd

Songwriter

Letra

Yeah, hahah, who put all these fucking steps here

Was it you?

It's still that, Mr. Mangler

Mr. Baxter to ban jackster plans on man's that lack stamina

The rap rap scallion, Jam Backa champion

I write lines while you're sat mash racking 'em

Or standing at the back of 'em

But I rammed it, it's one in one out

One king, one crown, one spliff, one snout

One thick skunk cloud, tough shit pup mouth

'Nuff pills munched down

One big drug binge, one shit come down

Some swim some drown, some grin some frown

I'm done sounding dumb, so I run rings around 'em now

Pound for pound, I pound 'em down like (blaow!)

I run out of shit to say, spit gifts like it's chimneys on Christmas day

Drips of K, sniff 'til the symptoms fade

Shit can change and switch in a single day

Cause this is life mate, try rave your dumb what

I paint my eyeballs a light shade of fuck off

I crave the high grade skunk crops

And my brain and tongue rock sine waves, bruv what

This year I'm assimilating biomass

Ride like an iron clad titan on his final rags

Attack mics with a giant hand styled with a cider can

Arrive like a fire-gram burning

That's grimes like a line of scag try and wrap

Shine like a pile of cash sterling I'm swiping that

They're the thoughts that you might've had if you were half as

Tight as Dak Turpin or twice as mashed

You're rap tattered and worn

Like the rags that adorn Jam Baxter as standard

I fractured my jaw, still raw as the scabs on a cancerous corpse

As a swarm of tarantulas hang from my thoughts

The man's still crawling with anthems

Full morphing at random, force of the phantom

Haunting your mansions from Crawley to Acton

From Shoreditch to Camden, from Dalston to Clapton

Applauding your fraff, and your waffle and your babble

What's popping slobs am I bothered, what's the hassle?

(Scrape scrape) Scrape the bottom of the barrel

I bop blocks sodden in the soggiest apparel

With the Bosh, comma Hieronymus

Bop with a bottle and a pocket full of monikers

Cause from, eight to Daktis to Grimmithy Grams

From Jake to Jam Baxter from Jimmy to Stan from

Mr. Sism to the Simian man we're still

Rinsing your rizlas and sniffing your grams

(Surprise surprise)

So it's that S-M-Bizzalicious

Smoke My Beef 'til it's dripping in your withered innards

These days I'm the picture of cynicism

Rephrase the heat wave and the winter blizzard

Keep sane 'cause I live for this lyricism

Understand dunce, run it back if you didn't listen

This year I'm assimilating biomass

Ride like an iron clad titan on his final rags

Attack mics with a giant hand styled with a cider can

Arrive like a fire-gram burning

That's grimes like a line of scag try and wrap

Shine like a pile of cash sterling I'm swiping that

They're the thoughts that you might've had if you were half as

Tight as Dick Turpin or twice as mashed

Jammy Kilowatt

Bigging up Mr. Megahertz

Too many fucking steps

Written by: Adrian Ernst, Jacob Lloyd

Rodapé Shazam

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