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Symphonic Circus
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A song for the sonically challenged.
rap hiphop hardcore urban
Artist picture
XP. Expatriate. That's the name that best represents this young talent. XP is a mere 22 years, but his songs dive into a maturity even he doesn't always unders
A few blocks from Howard University, in a dorm-like apartment, with empty Hennessey bottles, posters of Tupac, Bob Marley, and somewhat artistic images of half naked women, a self-described positive gangsta creates intricate works of art. Drawings of gothic visions, socially conscious poems, and music with vivid imagery are born in this chamber. XP is a mere 22 years, but his songs dive into a maturity even he doesn't always understand. Take a ride down the streets of DC and listen to the lives of this ghetto poet.
Song Info
Charts
Peak #11,604
Peak in subgenre #7,236
Author
M. Glover, L. Smith
Rights
2003
Uploaded
September 09, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.8 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
Verse 1: We Truckin/ We rollin/ pushin like locomotives/ Autumn falls in the summer for the wicked and the hopeless/ though this might sound demented/ Listenen' to this might get yo cerebellum dented/ and whiplash from the /(yiggit)/ Dig it/ if you can't/ then you may/ not like this shit anyway/ So step to the left while grown folks play 4 your chest get slammed wit reverse of Eight Trey/ wit a Fat Al (Hey)/ I'm so far from cliché/ you might have to step into the future and snatch me from the after day/ Latter Day peasants please step the fuck out the way/ just stand to the side and bop ya head while I say Chorus: Bu Da Dum Dum Dum!.. Verse 2: Come on beat yo feet/ go head and crip walk it/ Jump all on this track like it was snitchin'/ fed talking/ haters still hawkin'/ Dogg is still barkin'/ Cats is still runnin' while the K-9 chases the tail/ of the itty bitty kitty/ the kitty so siddity/ Like that bitch is to good to screw on wheels and roll wit me/ Like her stankin ass aint from the same place that I'm from/ that's why the dog hates the cat and chase they ass for fun then hum!. Chorus Verse 3: But lets get serious/ curious minds wanna know whats going on inside of the mind defined by the industry as unsigned/ because I'm 2 different/ creative/ Its only 2G3 And I was suppose to cum later/ like 2 mo millenniums/ brain function like Pentiums/ Processin' and killin' 'em/ If everybodys super/ then Im more like the villain slim/ Dremt about a mill- E -on / deals signed and sealin em/ they all love the shit/ but aw naw/ they can't be feelin him/ they want me to be like floss boy/ gangsta/ too Real and nem'/ If I write brains. It ain't complete with out a nigga spillin em/ I hock up phlegm at any motha fucka that oppose me/ If I don't talk on what I do/ does that make the world nosey (STOP)/ Think about it/ I could be so rowdy rowdy/ but don't have to talk about it./ Don't have to scream and shout it/ but if I don't scream murder, kill, shoot, stab, will they sign a nigga/ doubt it.
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