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Asian Dub Foundation lyrics - Fact's And Fiction

Strong Culture

Original and similar lyrics
I grab the mic To commence with the mic check Supply rhymes, man you've never heard yet You never thought an Asian could do this Well you're wrong Wrong again Hardcore! That's what I wanna be All over the white world Yes they'll remember me Don't look at me as an Innocent bystander Because I'll scare you after dark ... Master D Adlib Paki bashing That's what I call fucking racism And you can tell I'm a fucking Paki lover Day to day Night to night Persecution with a capital P Racism with a capital R Man I've seen your scar I've seen your scar You expect me to sympathise The hell no! You don't know the price that we're paying Master D Adlib What you see is no mirage Asian guys and girls comin large Straight from the East Tough! And coming like a beast Guys who are very keen and showing ability Tranquility, we have the audacity Speaking out 'Cos there's no doubt about that Another critical rhyne Make you wanna look Observe it It's like a comic book Coming from the place with the capital B I'll let you guess- No let me tell you: The B and the A and the N and the G and the L and the A with a word called Desh Sums up the country The word and the place called Bangladesh So you never contest Yes you thought I couldn't do it I'm not a Black man This time it's an Asian Some fear the white man Some fear the Ku Klux Klan But they ain't up to no good Brother brother, sister sister Yes if your miss or if your mister Listen to this rap It's Asian guys coming correct Way back in the sixties Our fathers, our mothers They suffered a lot for us They couldn't say much They couldn't do much 'cos of the fear of getting beat up But now it's the nineties We're not babies no more You know the score that we live for Our fathers, our mothers They brought us up to be tough We don't stand for any bullshit We don't give a damn Even if you're superman Strong culture is what you see in our eyes Not just tough guys. Master D Adlib

The Master Has A Butt

GWAR "We Kill Everything"
I'm thinking I was once a baby Birthed deep within the Master's bowels Shat across the cosmos, banished to this mudball But I crave vengence, I'm not throwing in the towel Well I said I'm sorry but you slapped me back down I'm just a Sunday morning turd coming down Stare into the inky blackness I swear I think you'll find him there With over grown cuticles, and an asteroid belt I said now sonny, de does not give a damn Well I'm a real bad mama A real bad man I like to spend a lot of time on the can I had a little something to eat last night It's not alright, The Master has a butt Well we fucked up the tablet and the Master heard the sound A little birdie told me he's coming back around His hideous wisdom calls for my death There'll be nothing left Except a butt Daddy tells me to bend over Whips your buttocks with a strap Bails my ass out of reform school Then he goes and takes a nap Well I said that I was sorry but I couldn't make you care If I could stop shitting then I'd change my underwear If I can't kill the Master then I'll have to get a job I'm a fuckin' slob The Master has a butt

Rock Rock Y'all

[Punch] Yo! We about to rock this joint, from the family. And we want ya'll all to know, that it's time... CHORUS (all): To rock rock ya'll Freak freak ya'll To the beat ya'll It's unique ya'll (2x) [Punch] A-yo praise the master, make plans wit' your pastor My rap'll blast ya, send you to the hereafter I push a tractor, for horses grazin' in the pasture Ya heard I was trickin', the whole room filled with laughter In ciphers, I'm the one you don't rhyme after You only know half of the math, it don't add up The lead batter, my hits make ya frame shatter Watch me now! Just begun like Jimmy Castor I'm bad luck just like walkin' under ladders Mad rappers, book of life, last chapter Me and my squad build just like contractors I break shit, you only give hairline fractures Women flash us, don't know ya better ask us A bastard, wit' more contacts than Lens Crafters Tear down the rafters, venerials couldn't clap us You need practice, hit chicks then I'm Casper [Jane Doe] The church of scientology, feminine biology Manic depressive psychologically, A.D.D. alive and we Polluted by technology, the fumes and its ecology While your thought you was out of copy I get nastier than sodomy Probably an oddesey, started back on robbery Was the degree of the economy that do the sovereignty Regarded as a prodigy, leery in sociology Let the wallabees always conceal my gynecology Rhymin' pathologically, that's how it gotta be! Never makin' no apology, worshippin' my anthropology Fuck modesty, studyin' microbiology Causin' verbal lobotomy, it's in my geneology Six months of sobriety, movin' very methodically Like a unicorn, more ways than oceanography Guard technology, rip shows antibiotically True thugs bionically, give birth to criminology [Words] Yo as a youngin', I swear to God you couldn't tell me nothin' I swore I was gettin' somethin', clothes or humpin' For girls with the church, slacks with some shirts tucked in I set it up for money, my mom worked when I was cuttin' Unsigned strugglin', for the heat I lit the oven One would by the CD, the other would do the dubbin' Before I met Rob, I was in the clubs frontin' Oh yeah I know the Tip, when I see him I be duckin' But now when I'm clubbin', those that used to dis were buggin' Overweight chicks, spandex, they stomachs sucked in Stay interruptin', dance and try to cut in Told people you got in free when you really snuck in [Q-Tip] We never get concerned about who's in the league We just stay workin' so no one will need An unconcerned outsider givin' niggaz feed My niggaz puff weed but negotiate the seed The family is granite and you can't intercede I try to switch lanes at this operatin' speed Cats in the game be gamblin' with greed We the house, you the player and we gonna catch these Who's the Sam Sneed makin' microphones bleed Poker face creed while my mind just read Shorty got rhythm but her freak got freed That's insignificant but this take heed [Mos Def] They say I'm pretty like Clay is, bright like the day is Beats from my fleet be sweet like Sugar Ray is I'm swingin' this from Bay Ridge to where the Oakland Bay is My game is tough to play, I'm tough to weigh like your safe is The aim is, to make you recognize what the name is Mos Def gon' set it straight from where the 718 is The place with the great superiginate the flavors An all-star block with some all-star laymans (Turn the music down!) This is probably some haters Achin' cuz they hear us rotatin' on the playlist From B-boy laces to Detroit gators Yo Tip I got to bail, where the scale? Help me weigh this... Yo! We wan't ya'll to know...that this is the family, right? And what we want everybody out there to do...on the dance floor... is get ready...because noooowwwwww we gonna... CHORUS (6x) to fade out


JOEY BADA$$ "1999"
Yeah Another love song gone wrong So know you are a WOOP Like based God in wonton But I didn't And I ain't even tripping Another foul ball But I'm still glad I hit it 'Cause a lot of niggas didn't, you know Coulda shoulda type like, "Oh, it was like, too tight" Come on, I would've pipe But our schedules contradicted Well I was tied down hey pipe down First night ya boy laid the pipe down Took off the night gown And whipped out the slanky Then she screamed, "Joey spank me" And after that she even thanked me, swanky One time for my nigga Dymes Lord knows we'll be kicking rhymes 'Til the end of time But back to the topic Oh yeah I'm pissed off I'm still tripped off And wondering why shorty dipped off I ain't gonna front a nigga Do miss the lip gloss Now she sucked some next nigga dick off And my dick soft So tell me what the fuck I'm posed to do And you know it ain't too easy getting over you I sent the postcards so you know it's true I promise that I wouldn't get emotional And I'm not, so stop it Why you frontin like you don't miss my whole cock Pit down your esophagus Screaming, "daddy stop it" Ripping out your tracks Chipped nail polish in the scratches of my back like Did you forget about the time we had the sticky roll And I tried to suck your titties whole For milk for my cheerios Did you forget about the video when you first came I hit that spot twice and since then You haven't been the same Now I heard you fucking with some new man Can't remember his name But my first impression: what a lame Lorraine said she seen him at a bowling lane Walking out the bathroom kinda strange with a shoulder stain Faggot Six months, and I'm still at it You probably never hear this track But I still rap it I guess I'm still attracted to you being here I swear I can't imagine you to not even care Whole thing played out like magic and it's kinda weird It's like I did a trick and you won't be reappear It ain't fair, I need you back sometimes I get scared But I'm a player, ain't gonna let you see my tears 'Cause I'm a player, ain't gonna let you see my tears 'Cause I'm a player, ain't gonna let you see my tears 'Cause I'm a player, ain't gonna let you see my tears 'Cause I'm a player I couldn't see it coming down my eyes So I had to make the song cry cry I couldn't see it coming down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry I couldn't see it coming down my eyes So I had to make the song cry cry I couldn't see it coming down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry Yeah

Oran Fir Heisgeir (Gura Mis' Tha Fo Mhighean) (The Song Of Fear Heisgeir)

JULIE FOWLIS "Gach Sgeul / Every Story"
Gura mis’ tha fo mhìghean, ’S mi leam fhìn air a’ chnoc, Fada, fada, bho m’ chàirdean, Ann an àite ri port; Gus am facas do bhàta, Le siùil àrda ri dos, Tigh’nn a-steach chun na h-Àirde ’S mac an àrmainn air stoc. Mac an àrmainn air stiùir, A tigh’nn a dh’ ionnsaidh an Troit; Gu bheil an caolas a’ beucadh, ’S muir ag èirigh mu slait; Tha do làmh-sa cho gleusta, ’S nach do thrèig ise neart; Ged a thigeadh muir dubh-ghorm, Chuireadh sgùradh a-steach. ’S ged bhiodh cìosnachadh mar’ ann, ’Bhuileadh barraibh a crann, ’Chuireadh dh’ ionnsaigh a slat i, ’S luaithe h-astar na long; Bhiodh i aigeannach, aotrom, ’G èirigh eadar gach gleann, ’S muir a’ bualadh mu darach, ’Fuasgladh reangan is lann. Bu tu sgiobair na fairge, Bu tu fear falmadair grinn, Gur tu b’ urrainn a stiùireadh, ’Nuair a dhiùltadh iad i; Ged a bheireadh iad thairis, ’S iad na laighe ’s an tuim, Chumadh tusa i cho gàireach, Gus an tàrradh i tìr. Chan eil aon rubha cladaich, Eadar seo ’s a Chaoir-dhearg, Eadar Lìte ’s gach cala, ’N dèanta fantainn neo falbh; Chan eil maighstir soithich, Chuala feothas do làimh, Nach bi faighneachd, ’s a feòrach’, Càite faighte do bhàt’. Iùbhrach àlainn, ’s i fallainn, ’S i ri gabhail a’ chuain, I ruith cho dìreach ri saighead, ’S gaoth na h-aghaidh gu cruaidh; Ged bhiodh stoirm chlacha’-meallain Ann, ’s an cathadh a tuath, Nì Fear Heisgeir a gabhail Làmh nach athadh ro ’n stuaigh. Tha Fear Heisgeir a’ tighinn; Bu tu ceann-uidhe nan ceud, Bu tu ceann-uidhe na cuideachd, ’S cha bu sgrubaire crìon; ’N àm ruighinn do bhaile, Seal mu ’n cromadh a’ ghrian; Bu tu mac an deagh athair, Bha gu mathasach riamh. [Translation:] I am melancholy Alone on the hillock Far, far from my relations Stranded in this place. Till your ship was seen, Full sailed Coming in to the Aird Son of the hero on the gunwhale. Son of the hero at the helm Coming towards the Troit The waters of the straits are roaring The sea rising around her yards; Your hand is so skilled, She did not lose her strength Though the black blue sea Would scour over her. Though the seas were overpowering and tested the top of the mast And the sail yards Increasing the speed of the ship; She would be spirited, light, Rising between each glen Sea crashing her oak timbers Opening ribs and scales. You were the sea skipper You were the elegant helmsman You were the one who could steer When the rest refused; Though they were overcome Lying down in the bilge water You would keep her laughing Till she reached land. There’s not a coastal point Between here and a’ Chaoir-dhearg Between Leith and each harbour From which they anchored or sailed; There isn’t a ship’s master Who heard of your expertise Who isn’t asking and enquiring Where your ship is to be found. Beautiful sound ship, Taking on the seas Sailing straight as an arrow Despite strong headwinds Though there was a hailstorm And snow from the north Fear Heisgeir will take it on And never falter in the face of rough seas. Fear Heisgeir is coming; You are the destination of hundreds You are the destination of the company Not a withered niggard; On reaching your homestead A while before sunset You are the son of the good father Who was always benevolent.

Eye Examination

Del The Funky Homosapien
Let me tell you a little story about the slave master. Use a whip on your ass so you behave faster. You got chains on your neck and the Man's respect. You'll work all damn day but you will never see a check In the field. Cotton you yield. Your skin peels off your back From the crack of the whip. It won't heal. Ya wish you had a shield 'cause he wields iron So when you act up he smokes ya and keeps firing. And it's tiring. Forget about recreation. One wrong move and it's death you're facing. White motha fuckaz got the ball and chain On your leg, and in the form of religion on your brain. They say, You the devil. You say, Who the devil?!?! Some of us was house niggers. Some of us was rebels. Some tried to get along the best they could. And didn't nobody use the phrase, It's all good! Would you? They got you living like a shrew. They throw you pig lips and chicken gizzards. Then you make a stew. They give us a white Jesus to appease us. We talk among ourselves and hope nobody sees us. They had our brothers beating us. Called us createns plus monkeys. They just junkies mistreating us. The master said, If you don't whip 'em, you're dead! It was fucking with his head, but he beat us instead. And we bled. Red blood flowing like a flood. Then he'd rape your mother. Stick her face in the mud. They were ruthless! If you tried to front, you'd be toothless. Some tried to run even though it seemed useless. Virginity was torn. Soon babies was born that was half white. And now his skin is kind of light. You think you're special, because they let you Oversee the carnage? But I bet you Will get hung, even if you stick out your tounge. 'Cause they pull out the shank and stick it right through you're lung. Now it's 96 and white people say, Forget it. It's all in the past. And some even regret it. 'Cause they think we'll set it. Now my missions to get federal So I can raise a black family with a true devils And you know how that goes. (Chorus 2x) The slave master watching over you, Always trying to tell you what the fuck to do! The slave master watching over you, But ain't nothing gonna stop me and my crew! This is for you kids trying to get signed. Just a little something you should keep in mind: The labels are slave masters. Artists are slaves. Don't get too raunchy. They want you to behave. You get signed. You're thinking, This is great! But wait You never knew what was at stake. Creative control they withold. You sell your soul when you sign on the dotted line hoping to go gold. But you'll never see that, not without promotion. The label'll just throw your shit out, and got it floatin'. You think your shit is potent, but ain't nobody buying it. If they ain't never heard of it, ain't nobody trying it. If they ain't never heard of it 'your record' they murder it. You can complain. But they are not concerned a bit. 'Cause when they signed you, they thought you'd make a hit 'cause of who you were affiliated with, and all that bullshit. Frustrations. All these rules and regulations Just so you can have your shit heard by the nation. And be patient. 'Cause by the time they find a lead release, your shit is ancient. You think they're working your album? You're mistaken. And if you flop, you get dropped. 'Cause you ain't the star. You didn't go pop. Just straight up hip-hop. Time to get a mop. 'Cause without no promotion, of course sales drop. Peep the break down: If tapes cost ($)10, You'll probaably only get to see a dollar in the end, That you cannot spend. Cause your budget gets recouped. So you never get cash unless your record is Shoop. You better hope you get shows, which will not happen If you don't have a record that's the main attraction. Even if you sell a million, you'll get burned Cause they keep half your cash just in case of returns. For a while, you wonder why rappers don't smile. 'cause to them, you're not an artist. You're just another file. Another nigger used to make another buck. They don't give a fuck. And if your shit don't blow up, tough. But the star gets both promotion and devotion From the whole fucking staff. At you, they laugh. The star probably don't know that he the house nigger. Thinking he bigger cause he's the, pick of the litter. These lebels think backwards. They push the acts that need it the least So they can get all the money they can when it's released. They take you to a restarant for a feast, And then expect you to pck up the check? That's why I give props to niggaz who is independent: 'Cause they make they own money, plus decide how to spend it. Splendid.And lets end it. And don't get offended. (Chorus 2x) The slave master watching over you, Always trying to tell you what the fuck to do. The slave master watching over you, But ain't nothing gonna stop me and my crew. Hieroglyphics!

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