The Dusty Foot Philosopher歌词

作曲 : Goldstein, K'Naan, Warsame
Yo. Just imagine like whistling down a desert or some ****.
Don't this make you wanna swing like monkeys outta trees?
I don't got no parameters
This amateur is famous
All you fame getters
Hate caterers
I name names and date of births
On a later verse
Make a ***** play reverse (move backwards)
Marching with some soldiers here
We coming over there
The kind of ****** soldiers fear
You just gotta stare
You ain't got no option (no)
Please relax son
I'm taking over like drug dealer cars to auctions
Oh these are hungry men
These are angry men
Heard you got a lot of guts
They'll call your bluff
Your **** is laughable
Why you rap at all?
Why don't you just wrap sandwiches to earn a capital?
When half the **** that you spit
Ain't even half sick
If you was doing my physical you couldn't have my ****
Back to my first flow
I own this **** yo
My skills so bright when I spit my lips glow
[Chorus]
The dusty foot philosopher
Ripping up kilometers
Winking at you officers da dum da dum da dum
The dusty foot philosopher
Sicking up the monitor
Waking up the auditors da dum da dum da dum
And I've seen war and some
Survived the slaughter son
Kids play cops and robbers and not with the water guns
And yeah picture me
And big brother Lee
Walking through the fire
We came to claim our victory
And I roll with a harder pen
I might start a trend
Beat down a whack MC, coz you know there's a lot of them
Wait 'til my **** crashes
Rip asses
Women who give me neck suffer from whiplashes
I frighten the masses
'Cause I'm that nasty
I heard to get a deal you had to give lap dances
This **** is serious
Sincere it is
The people wanted something real
Well yo, here it is
My rhymes push records back like a belly button, dirty rutting
I got stiff neck steady nuttin' it aint nothing
I got the track laid like I'm *******
The only ***** you got is made out of cotton.
[Chorus]
This is what you waited for
Glad you stayed the course
Coz a lot of rappers is getting treated like lady whores
And I don't like Babylon
I don't like your song
I don't like hearing that fake accent from Dylon
The industry commentator
**** it I'm a hater
My mind is like your life straight up cause it's made up
I'm strolling like babies with big gats, ladies
That rock more fellahs than ten thousand daisies
Harder than harboring Bin Laden inside the bottom compound with Donald Rumsfield and Bush blood
Moving along like people who don't want it
Even if I had jewels I'd be the type who don't run it
They call me dusty cause my feet have been through a lot
The wisdom of my survival that's just due to a lie
So I'm not gonna sit here and whine like crushed grapes
My mind leaves you speechless like duct tape.
[Chorus]
Wait a minute, wait a minute (laughter)
The dusty foot philosopher,
Ripping up kilometers,
Faster than you officer, da da da da da da
The dusty foot philosopher,
Sicking off the monitor,
Waking up the auditors, da da da da da da
Why are his feet so dusty?