Little Death (feat. Nikki Jean) Songtext - Lupe Fiasco

Little Death (feat. Nikki Jean) - Lupe Fiasco

[Produced by S1 & Vohn Beatz]


[Verse 1: Lupe Fiasco]
Now bring it out

Like a finger in the back of your mouth
Cherubs and cerebellum, Tara at Sarah's wedding
Sam marrying Sam

Band pushed upon the finger of Sam's hairiest hand

If that sickens you, you a bigot

If it doesn't well you're wicked

Such is life
Odd as Egg McMuffins at night
No answers, so let us watch these dancers

Structure reformed gracefully being born

On the pallet of dark grays, concaves and spirals

Kaleidoscope into a Eiffel

It ripples then it tidals

Vacillates then it virals
Babylons then it Bibles and others
And tell me of the spinning mothers
And today's mathematics for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered like the cummerbunds of butlers...

[Hook 1: Nikki Jean]
How was your day, can I make what you say

What I wanna hear, cause I want you here

The hell that we raised to the heavens do anything for
La petite mort, la petite mort

[Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco]
They keep the bottles just to make glass houses
Then climb up to the second floors and throw rocks out it

Then expect not a volley in reply

Some place vulnerable like probably in the eye
What of the chicken? what is it missin', is it dry?

Did it die in some inhumane conditions so it didn't go relaxed

And the tension from its demise pulled all of the flavor from the fat
And made it flat and rather lifeless
Well there's a place that has a stunning turbot

And more mercifully murdered Pisces
But barbaric are still the prices
It's rather niceless, apricot in dices and fromage slices

My son will call risotto rices

If and when he's left to his own devices, well
How is your memory?

Is it returning like a lemon tree

To bear bitter fruit of what you meant to me
Or was it slippin' like permission, am I trippin' like field
I feel I'm grippin' but maybe the transmission
Still left out the life, also left out the will, grief

Will cheese never touch your teeth
Maybe like kosher beef

Is it real, is it real, is it real

Ha, hah!

[Hook 2: Nikki Jean]
Howl at the day can I make you my prey

Cause I want you dear, ooh, I want you dear
The hell that we raised to the heavens make symmetries/cemeteries for
Our petite mort, our petite mort


[Verse 3: Lupe Fiasco]

So glad you're back, but not glad at that you're glad
Where is the glamour in collapse?
Where in the shatter of the facts shoves one back to a pattern of stab wounds
Swoon ridden goons consumed and driven mad soon
The atelier slowly fills with baboons

That other monkey business

Where killers go free cause a junkie's a funky witness
Runny mascaras from the cunning mask wearers of death
Bygone errors, sittin' like two oil derricks
Separated by a sea of cooling num nums
Reminiscing of an every day playing hum drum
Where recognition went unnoticed
And then solidified till it was stoic
We should've been poets

Somewhere between amateurs and grandmasters of iambic pentameter

[Hook 3: Nikki Jean]
How are your chains, do they make you behave

Keep you over here, by your overseer
Fallen from grace down from heaven to memories floor

La petite mort, la petite mort


Video: Little Death (feat. Nikki Jean) von Lupe Fiasco

Teilen

Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir Little Death (feat. Nikki Jean) von Lupe Fiasco gefällt:

Kommentare