Aceyalone: Art Club
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Aceyalone: Art Club
It's about the art
It's about the alright.. alright listen
First rule of Art Club, there is no Art Club
Second rule of Art Club, there is no Art Club
Walkin around, talkin to myself
But you're only crazy if you answer back and the chances of that
are high enough to scrape the sky, me myself and I
My inner battles are way more excitin than the ones I have on the mic
I have the time of my life
Dissectin it, overstandin it and perfectin it
And protectin it, it's become my drive
The more it gets to be heard, the longer it stays alive
My Art, Club
We meet daily, we sleep rarely, we bend barely
Fairly new, very artsy, very artsy
Do not disturb the session in progression
Just my teachers, and students and employees
And a map of the world, I could rap to the world, destroy MC's
Let it be noted that, no one man can hold it
Most overloaded and folded under the pressure
Most difficult task, last shall be first to get the treasure
To carry hot stones is an honor, and a duty
Storm weather, warm weather
And rainy nights, my Art Club built of solid steel
Yeah you know
And one diamond light
Your interpretation of artists you know
Will always be in the forefront of the world's..
future, it's past, imagination y'know
Yeah it's true, aight..
I refuse to take part, in any lesser art - felt
Break your little hip-hop art and watch you melt
First assignment, evoke the path, provoke the future
Choke and strangle your Devil before he shoots ya
full of serum to fear him
But my Club supports the God so it's difficult to hear him
We meet, over the beat, bring your drum machines and (?)
Dem days fly by fast, meditating with the sensei
Be forever in debt with the powers that be
My solid steel integrity, kills a celebrity
So let it be, we shall fulfill our destiny
My Art Club
[uncredited spoken word poet forms the song's outro]
The current show was called,
"Art Hurts: Visions From Young Los Angeles Artists."
It was a madhouse!
It's about the alright.. alright listen
First rule of Art Club, there is no Art Club
Second rule of Art Club, there is no Art Club
Walkin around, talkin to myself
But you're only crazy if you answer back and the chances of that
are high enough to scrape the sky, me myself and I
My inner battles are way more excitin than the ones I have on the mic
I have the time of my life
Dissectin it, overstandin it and perfectin it
And protectin it, it's become my drive
The more it gets to be heard, the longer it stays alive
My Art, Club
We meet daily, we sleep rarely, we bend barely
Fairly new, very artsy, very artsy
Do not disturb the session in progression
Just my teachers, and students and employees
And a map of the world, I could rap to the world, destroy MC's
Let it be noted that, no one man can hold it
Most overloaded and folded under the pressure
Most difficult task, last shall be first to get the treasure
To carry hot stones is an honor, and a duty
Storm weather, warm weather
And rainy nights, my Art Club built of solid steel
Yeah you know
And one diamond light
Your interpretation of artists you know
Will always be in the forefront of the world's..
future, it's past, imagination y'know
Yeah it's true, aight..
I refuse to take part, in any lesser art - felt
Break your little hip-hop art and watch you melt
First assignment, evoke the path, provoke the future
Choke and strangle your Devil before he shoots ya
full of serum to fear him
But my Club supports the God so it's difficult to hear him
We meet, over the beat, bring your drum machines and (?)
Dem days fly by fast, meditating with the sensei
Be forever in debt with the powers that be
My solid steel integrity, kills a celebrity
So let it be, we shall fulfill our destiny
My Art Club
[uncredited spoken word poet forms the song's outro]
The current show was called,
"Art Hurts: Visions From Young Los Angeles Artists."
It was a madhouse!
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Aceyalone: Art Club
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Inne teksty wykonawcy
Aceyalone: Art Club
-
Scribble On A Clean Surface
- Aceyalone
-
Supahero
- Aceyalone
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The Saga Continues
- Aceyalone
-
Blink Blink
- Aceyalone
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Caged Bird
- Aceyalone
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Aceyalone: Art Club
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100 BPM - feat. Bletka
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„Nad miastem unosi się dym Dziś każdy porusza się w tańcu I serce wybija nam rytm Nie braknie nam promieni słońca Gdy mieni się golden hour Którego nie dotykasz końca Chce z Tobą tańczyć jak nikt”
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