AVATAR lyrics - Hail The Apocalypse

Tsar Bomba

Original and similar lyrics
Wach auf! Was gibt's denn? Der Regenbogen scheint mir schwart Durch meine, geburt Hat sich entschieden Ich habe kein Herz Ein Geist Verfolgt mich Sei mir gegrüsst Du Meister Streit Zurückgestossen Du ziehst mich in die Vergangenheit Sei brav Komm näher Was siehst du auser meinen Gesicht? Der Abgrund frisst alle Ein Wesen aus Angst und Hass Pharao, Kaiser; Herr über Leichen Tsar Bomba Pharao, Kaiser; Herr über Leichen Tsar Bomba Eine Welt in Flammen Ich kann nicht atmen Es gibt keine Luft Im Krieg gefallen Im ewigen Kampf gegen dich Pharao, Kaiser; Herr über Leichen Tsar Bomba Pharao, Kaiser; Herr über Leichen Tsar Bomba Ein Mensch bleibt immer ein Mensch und wahrscheinlich bleibt ein Schwein immer ein Schwein Du verdammte Schwein Sei brav Komm näher Was siehst du auser meinen Gesicht? Der Abgrund frisst alle Ein Wesen aus Angst und Hass Pharao, Kaiser; Herr über Leichen Tsar Bomba Pharao, Kaiser; Herr über Leichen Tsar Bomba

Madagaskar

Heinz Rudolf Kunze
Guten Tag Herr Doktor ich habe ein Problem drueben auf dem Roentgenschirm koennen Sie es sehn Letzte Woche ists passiert ich konnte bloss nicht frueher tief in meinem After steckt ein Schraubenzieher Das Fliessband wurde schneller da nahm ich's in die Hand da tat ich es mir an und ploetzlich kam Musik vom Band Sagen wir ich sei beim Duschen ausgerutscht ausgesprochen ungluecklich da ist er reingeflutscht Vielen Dank Herr Doktor Sie lindern grosses Leid ich spraeche gern noch weiter doch ich stehl nur ihre Zeit Schreiben Sie mir bitte ein entsprechendes Attest weil mich sonst die Versicherung im Regen stehen laesst Text: Heinz Rudolf Kunze Musik: Heinz Rudolf Kunze / Mick Franke

Wo Ist Der Kaiser

Erste Allgemeine Verunsicherung
Es war Ungarn-Österreich früher groß wie nie und Kaiser Franz der Donau-Hecht im Sumpf der Monarchie Walzertakt und Chadaspruch lagen in der Luft doch heut hört man ein Wimmern aus der Kapuzinerkruf Was sind das für Zeiten, was hat das zu bedeuten, immer diese Popmusik, Popmusik, Popmusik, der wahre Hit sei mir nicht barsch ist der Radezki Marsch Ref: Er lebe hoch, wo ist der Kaiser, er lebe hoch, wir brauchen ein Idol Er lebe hoch, dieses Land braucht Ihn und keinen Rok'n'Roll Grab'm man aus unsren Kaiser kauf ma ihm an Synthesizer und auf Schlagzeug setz ma unsern Kronprinz Rudl Das ist wahre Popmusik, Popmusik, Popmusik dann kommen die Japaner kaufen viele Lipizaner Ref: Es ist so weit am Haiden-Platz gibts gratis Apfenstrudel, die Masse bebt der Kaiser lebt und auch der Kronprinz Rudl Der Kaiser macht den Ausfallsschritt und Hundertausend tanzen mit. Ref:

Tetra

AESOP ROCK "Skelethon"
Don't fool with his cool I turn a staff to a snake and back, evade crack Shake a 5150 in shades and a fake stache Dirtbike made of 5 worse bikes, uphill Tabletop frames on dutch tilt, crush kill MakerBot coin-op arcade punk Talkin' arcane science, dark age pulp Four eyes card face, bark Aes iron on [?] Pork rinds orange age, Jarred brains die alone No Mulligans, crow bars bird cage Cold, colonize Mars on Earth day And surface from the cellar door like worms into the petrichor Messenger, better get a vessel for a Tetris score Zilch, cowabunga homies call me "press ignore" Devastating energy exploding off his Tesla coil Farm baited breath and tempermental tremors That taught a man to wave with 10 percent of his fingers And I never lost tic tac toe to a live chicken For the footage, I'm off cam dynamite fishin' For diamondback rattles in his holy grail Evoke colony collapse via gross betrayal 3 wolf moon shirt, two shoes one sock Wore the same hoodie everyday like Mumm-Ra Buh-dum-bum, follow the regenerated rebel flesh [?] Out of sorts, out of water, suicidal tetra fish Who stood by the conviction in his we should be together less forevermore Before we are the severed heads of civil war And basing [?] radio ricochet off the silver foil Trash can fire looking for a kill to grill or spoil Quickly, purveyors of fine hijinks I know, this is why we can't have nice things I prefer to skip the pleasantries Flip the diner table, dip in time for final jeopardy No shit Oh and don't fool with his cool Ma, can we get a pool? ... Is that a no? Okay, magpies, Hoarders, and allied forces Who lick zig-zags being dragged by horses Transcribe stories in patterns of pins dropping Skinned boars and exaggerated limb-lopping Slow Mozart, no I've never heard a knocking Might've burst in on it, splits or skin popping [?] Opt out, sober on the eve of no saints day Locate and aim for the token propane tank Bang! Followed from a pulling of hair To a homecoming sullied by a skull on a spear It spun a human resources issue to public affair Reciprocity is a pestilent compulsion to bear And ultimately unfulfilling, concurrently that rigid upper lipping grudge or crippling [?] The wonder twins are bitching Armchair hater, I wouldn't piss on your coffin But when I see your picture I draw dicks on it The ozone breakaway tux Holds chicken wire ribs and paper mache guts Pipe cleaner mustache, fork hands, google eyes Macaroni gas face, no plan to humanize You are now rockin' with the worst Nothing up his sleeve, nothing here is what it seems Paranormal weather, mysteriously disappearing bees Not to mention the collateral delirium it breeds Jeez, forgive him and he dicey past He from a tiny town called Deaths Icy Grasp And he don't get out much but when he do it's beetlemania Do not be asleep at the feet of his feelers radius Too charitable, offerin' the average joe some real estate Between the big mouth billy bass and jackalope Cozy in a moment of bliss Snatch the food off your plate, snatch a goat off a bridge No shit

Battle Cry

JOELL ORTIZ "Farewell Summer"
How many times I gotta tell y'all I'm second to none. No magazine's top ten cause I'm negative one. So I don't pay attention to them dumb folk Cause I'm a always be in first like the clutch broke I'm from where the cut-throats cut coke Cause school ain't cut it, they cut out the puff smoke And guess what? That's who I hang with, so when you speak INDUSTRY - I don't know the language But play the beat and I'll show you why I'm head honcho Ya'll gettin' away with murder like the white bronco Bunch of trash inbetween hooks Bars too cute to be gettin' all these mean looks Put the hottest rappers all on one stage together See who'll hold their arm up like Che Guevera I rhyme hotter and I say it better I'm a winter cold war I'm a product of the Regan Era Day thinkin till the page inkin' My 16 free ya'll I'm hip-hop's Abe Lincoln. Fam I don't know what they thinkin These niggas got me fucked up like I spent all day drinkin I'm a boss not a loss yet You're little lemons in a race with a souped up corvette I'm so hot I could stand still and pour sweat in the North Pole fully naked with my balls wet I'm a monster, these other niggas small pets Claim they sick but they get cured by your dog's vet I'm thorough from my Yank' to my gourtex You're bluffin, I play Poker I'm callin all bets Local boy, when's the last time you all left? I don't even know where the FUCK I'm goin' on tour next Last month Canada, before that? Europe I had Waffles out in Belguim, you ain't had Syrup Every time I write it's another flight Another whore with my kids on her underbite Another "YAOWA!" chant when I touch the Mic Another Magazine spread, yeah you fuckin right I'm on my grind like a pair of in-line skates Get on tracks and go banana's like a Primate Baboon, Gorilla, Chimpanzee, I'm Wild Ape King Kong under your skin, I'm bout to Sky-Scrape But the sky ain't the limit I could teleport through my mind any minute Take you to a place where the Lions go "ribbit" All the frogs "roar" and the fire is frigid I'm outta this world - don't belong here What heir'ing the thrown if I taught you from a small chair? Family, you niggas got it twisted Flow out of the box, yours chicken and a biscuit Gave me chicken pox when I listen, I be itchin' to cripple your career like a ligament is missin Dawg I'm on a mission like an intimate position When I swing it's Knock Out's I ain't gettin' a decision From here on it's locked ya'll a prisoner to spittin Can't escape my bars no visitor's permitted Welcome to Hell where Joell holds a pitch-fork And you burn in eternal flames for your bitch talk Dick in my hand I'm pissed off But I ain't bucklin', 'Everyday I'm Hustlin' - Rick Ross One day the whole globe will know I'm Clark Kent Underneath the shades on a Project park bench Superman when I grip the Mic The only way I'm slowin down is if I blow a pound of Kryptonite From now on I'm a bully I'm a pick the fight Let them pick you up off the ground when I check ya bite You'll become a little memory, gigabyte Me and these beats got married, I'm Mr. Right Little man you spit aight, I'm on fire You gotta little buzz - Miller Lite Man there's so many words runnin' round my brain If I don't put them on a track I would go insane Maybe that's why everything I say is crazy And everyday I wake up, with a naked lady With a V.I.P. band on my right wrist Pants on the flow, J.D. with a slight sip Left in the bottle tele-key on the night stand I go to the bathroom to pee and then I scram I live the life of a rock-star They ain't wanna let me through so I became a Cop Car Put the Sirens on every time I touch a pen Everybody move like dope - that's a fuckin '10' My peers know I'm gonna win. This music's like my first crush, for years I wanted in I'm here. Oh boy will you taste the wrath I'm a make it ugly like what's underneath Jason's mask I listen to alot of mixtapes and laugh All Ya'll nigga do is whine like Jamaican ass Every night I celebrate, we take a glass of Champagne to the brain Sometimes we take a bath Victory feels far better Than Defeat, you niggas weak, Solar's Letter I'm harder than a fonz-lebber My worst rhyme's 30 times rougher than your hottest bars ever I could front like a car fender Cause everything I'm on DJ's pull up like the bar tenders New York I'm the answer to your prayers Head Nod music, leave the dancin over there Project Shit, ain't no Mansion over here Just Murder on the strings, Charles Manson on the Snare I'm hungry the game's like a Food Court I just gave ya'll a loose hundred, Newports. Chea Joell Ortiz Who feel they... Who feel they better?

Farewell Summer

JOELL ORTIZ "Farewell Summer"
[Joell Ortiz] Yaowa! Lot been goin on these past three months If you don't mind, I'd like to share it with you Let's see, summer of oh-ten Well right before it kicked off I lost a really close friend Last time we kicked it was at a show in Coney Island Fucked with some bitches, I swear I miss my homie whylin That was bad enough news, like I needed to hear more Mr. Marshall Mathers is interested in us four "Us four" being Crooked I, Joe Budden Royce and myself, but I swear it's always somethin When the talks got real, E-1 started frontin Tryin to cockblock but we handled that, it's nothin Listen close, hear it from the horse's mouth, it's crazy The deal ain't finalized but yeah, Slaughterhouse and Shady Shows been gettin better, Highline was retarded When Fat Joe came out New York City went bonkers Styles P came out and put it down for all of Yonkers Even Sean Paul ripped it after twistin up the ganja Closed the show with Jim Jones, you know "Nissan, Honda, Chevy" had the fans Andretti, that's a monster Wish I coulda spit that on the stage at Summer Jam Can't complain though, that verse helped me scoop a couple grand Aside from the music, yeah, copped a new apartment Two bedroom joint, nothin fancy, lil' carpet Marble in the kitchen, cool walk-in closet A paintin here and there, somethin simple for an artist If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son Well then feel sorry for me cause I had more than one Like E-1 and Slaughterhouse single, I lost +The One+ Before the us and Pharoahe Monch Canada tour was done I argue with her like, "Bein insecure is dumb The only thing that I could get from all these whores is cum" We did the Skype thing in my bunk on late nights Always started cool but ended in the same fight Why I ain't pickin up the phone once again It only takes a second to reply to BBM Baby I don't know what to say Maybe it was the 20-hour drive from Montréal to Thunder Bay Maybe my phone died, maybe I'm sound checkin Maybe I'm on stage goin in for the crowd sweatin Either way it's over, you failed to understand You was dealin with a star, not your average brother man On another note, I got to kick it with my sons Up in Dave & Buster's winnin tickets, it was fun Did Rockaway Beach, played some frisbee in the sun At summer camp they had a Track and Field Olympics and they won I took it down to Miami on the 4th Wobbled out a mansion and did cameo of course Shit I brought to the telly looked like panties on a horse Freak brain, this bitch said "Nigga, ram me 'til I cough!" I gotta call the bitch but yeah, Flex see that I'm focused Droppin bombs like I did to get rid of the roaches Feels good bein Puerto Rican from the pro-jects And countries overseas havin a ball like my cojones This summer I did well settin up for oh-eleven Comin up on a year my granny said hello to Heaven My moms still goin through it, e'ry now and then she cries I'm tryin to bring a different set of tears into her eyes "Free Agent" is FIRE! The world gon' see it's tough I'ma drop the "Yaowa" mixtape with Green to heat it up Shout to ICU, the documentary is nuts Some people on there gone, a lot of memories, but yup Gotta keep it pushin though the ride gets bumpy I'ma keep whippin until I get money Hate to be so blunt, but I came up extra poor Borrowed from next door, couldn't get ketchup from the store The butt of all the jokes cause of the rejects that I wore Matching perfectly with all the V-necks that I tore But nope, not no more, my feet keep the sickest kicks Still doin V-necks but nowadays my shit is crisp I'm comin for the title boys, hope you niggaz rhyme I'm treatin this like high school, "A" game every time Let you niggaz party, go on vaca', I'ma grind 'Til e'ry verse I kick is like Pele in his prime Y'all don't want a war, be screamin mayday with a nine Your thought caliber's no MATCH for this AK in my mind Don't get clapped, like sex with a dirty slut When I'm done with rap, they gon' hang your boy jersey up Cause I done been an all-star on all bars My dad left, and the apple never falls far So I'm gone like a sports car Anyone who think they better is just +Wild+, Draw Four card I did this by myself, no help brother No more sag, I'm comin for that belt fuckers Said my prayers, and God called Joell's number So stay tuned in the Fall, "Farewell Summer"

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