3000 Dr. Octagon
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "3000" от Dr. Octagon. Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.
[Produced by Dan The Automator]
[Hook: Dr. Octagon]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
[Verse 1]
I crank up lyrical flows, spit Spats, what's that?
The pattern records, don't touch the DATs, yo
Check out the pro-skills, medic fulfills
Contact react to style, I'm back—you lack
Channels and handles, Automator's on the panels
Turning knobs, you slobs suckers like Baskin-Robbs
Carvel don't tell—your whole crew is ice cream fudge
Rappers that budge, making moves step in grooves
And ride the pace like at thirty-three dark shades
Now you seeing me
Rap moves on to the year three thousand
[Hook]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
[Verse 2]
Let me shuffle—red, red, red, see the black card, it ain't hard
Pick and choose, you lose, oops, you lost
Check out the boss on Broadway down to walkways
Suckers with mics that end up with tooth decay
I, the Doctor, stop ya, in your world rock ya
Heads bop, forever tunes and they won't stop like hip-hop
Keeps growing, sick of- sick of showing
Scratches in mattress, business, money, reattaches worldwide
Deep inside stops the diamond rocks
In a million world, billion world, quadrillion world
Rap moves on to the year three thousand
[Hook: Dr. Octagon]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
[Verse 1]
I crank up lyrical flows, spit Spats, what's that?
The pattern records, don't touch the DATs, yo
Check out the pro-skills, medic fulfills
Contact react to style, I'm back—you lack
Channels and handles, Automator's on the panels
Turning knobs, you slobs suckers like Baskin-Robbs
Carvel don't tell—your whole crew is ice cream fudge
Rappers that budge, making moves step in grooves
And ride the pace like at thirty-three dark shades
Now you seeing me
Rap moves on to the year three thousand
[Hook]
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
Three thousand!
[Verse 2]
Let me shuffle—red, red, red, see the black card, it ain't hard
Pick and choose, you lose, oops, you lost
Check out the boss on Broadway down to walkways
Suckers with mics that end up with tooth decay
I, the Doctor, stop ya, in your world rock ya
Heads bop, forever tunes and they won't stop like hip-hop
Keeps growing, sick of- sick of showing
Scratches in mattress, business, money, reattaches worldwide
Deep inside stops the diamond rocks
In a million world, billion world, quadrillion world
Rap moves on to the year three thousand
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