Setup (Freestyle)
13
Hip-Hop/Rap
Setup (Freestyle) 由 Cory Gunz 於 2005年12月13日發行,收錄於專輯《The Apprentice (Volume 1)》中
旋律
歌曲有多麼清晰易記且符合明確音樂模式的旋律。通常,旋律分明的作品會擁有清晰易記的器樂或人聲主線。
原聲音質
此指標衡量一首歌曲在多大程度上依賴原聲樂器 (例如鋼琴、吉他、小提琴、鼓、薩克斯風),而非電子或數位合成音效
Valence
歌曲透過和聲與節奏所傳達的音樂積極性或情感基調。數值高通常對應快樂、興奮或愉悅感,數值低則與悲傷、憤怒或憂鬱相關。
節奏感
綜合了節拍穩定性、節奏型態與重拍強度等多重因素,以判定一首歌曲適合跳舞的程度。一首「節奏感強」的歌曲,通常具備穩定的速度、重複的音樂結構與明顯的強拍。
輕快
曲目的律動感可能受節奏快慢、音量起伏與聲譜密度所影響。較輕快的歌曲通常節奏強勁,編曲豐滿;反之,不太輕快的歌曲則可能編曲簡約、節奏較慢。
BPM96
歌詞
I mentioned success, right?
I tell em, I used to give a shit
Now I don't give 10 less, **** want shows
Applaud for em, as I impress and inject threats with twin techs
Your kin's next, my **** hit the bar
And park you with the guards
Who got the bench necks, I been fresh
Yes, fuck G's, your bitch ass the way out I told her "suck seed"
The problem with the league is that **** don't want to perish
They nervous, Cory get em discouraged
That sort of verse died in that Beem and Suburban
His sort of wording, you probably see him in a turban
Disrespectful, fondling your beam while she nursing
I'm lyrically perfect, fuck it I said it
Mirror me worth it, a good look made it clearly and certain
Hold me to the age of your favorite regardless
I'm favored by the starvers who make their targets the product
This lil' **** got some nerve, you think you Jay?
**** save your thoughts, think yay
My **** pop Xannies up in nannies
On you cross-dressing trannies
On the 4th, Wessons go off at your fannies
And I want every cranny, and I'mma be grit
For every Grammy, and I did it with shit, not even Mammy
You hear me?
Had to let that bitch breathe..
Fuck it, let's suffocate her cause I waited long enough
I'm on this ****'s heels, I'm just waiting on the cuff
Threw it to him smooth, but it blew it through him rough
Pull out some shit Suge-height, jerk like Puff
Toughs like bluffs, bring the uptight stuff
Fight what? I fuck fights up
Abrupt dice luck cause a **** Niks scuffed
Corrupt heist bucks cause a **** life cuffs
And that's how I write stuff, making **** bite dust
Aiite, what..
I'm rapping like Em, Jigga, Kool G
A pinch of Fugees, grouped in Nas and his kufi
My group the groupies are like wet bottoms to roofies
You can be the new G, seen first in that v-neck Coogi
When that tech loogie, hacht-pooie
No lock, just pop and drop like Huey
These haties' ladies see me coming on that kaka doodie
To me, you sushi, chewy and tooshie
I'm bad like Boosie
Rap to me is easy as apple-picking is to baboonsies
?
I baloon his goons and lay them lead with that strap
It'll leave you scrappy, Scoobie
Act the movie, ain't what he shat, but it kept him rolling
My swag is
So overpotent, I rap like I'm overloading
Convulsions doing exploding imploding foes
And reloading fo's back
I keep shit going all lax why the fuck they fronting? I'm back
The fuck they wanting with that?
Just keep mine coming in stacks
And repeat your thumb in your ass cuz you fucked yourself
Iller than some are real and I'm trill enough for the South
'88 New Yorker ****, old school grill in his mouth
No school blocking my route
Pro Tools truck and I'm out
Those rules drop and I'm out
Position her like a stool then we pool drop in her mouth
Militia we ain't playing
MC'ing we ain't banging
Quiet riot what you saying? Green
Ha ha ha ha ha yes on the set like a bet
Who the next guest best the shit I express
Too much to ingest like incest being confessed
Lingo I possess can infest the nest
You manifest, blessed, your chest compressed
Can be digested, following a drive by
Like let's get high, eyes get tested
Lives get hectic, guys' wives get pipe-necked
Besides refreshments, I can't imagine any more than poor misfortune
Forming porking if I'm forking he's an orphan
Dwarfed and morphed into a short and awkward vulture
On the ? kind of raucous
Hit the stork like skip the door bitch it's important
Stripper store, pop a cork for Cory Culkin
Whore a story walking glory talking
For a Maury Povich audience
I'm annoying, I'm employing so I'm enjoying
Employing my shit's a dime on top of another nine
This rock could your mother climb
Shit popped another ?
Gets dropped for some other coins to get flipped for other tops
But bitch, a lot of **** hella copped my swag
And trying to raise the race green and never clocked my drag
Written by: Peter Cory Pankey, Jr.


