R.A.P. Music
- Killer Mike (2012)You are listening to the song R.A.P. Music by Killer Mike, in album R.A.P. Music. The highest quality of audio that you can download is flac . Also, you can play quality at 32kbps, view lyrics and watch more videos related to this song.
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Lyrics
[Intro:]
I've never really had a religious experience, in a religious place. Closest I've ever come to seeing or feeling God is listening to rap music. Rap music is my religion. Amen.
[Verse 1:]
What I say might save a life, what I speak might save the street
I ain't got no instruments, but I got my hands and feet
Hands gonna clap and feet gonna tap
El-P beats to make that snap
And I ride 'em with my raps
And they all tight as my naps
And my naps is all I got and this beautiful ebony skin
And the music in my heart and the words put in the wind
And the words put in the wind
Comin' back like a boomerang
When I take this microphone
Point it at the crowd, they start to sing.
[Hook: x2]
This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul, this is gospel
This is sanctified sick; this is player Pentecostal
This is church; front pew, amen, pulpit
What my people need and the opposite of bullshit.
[Verse 2:]
It's that Robert Johnson
That Muddy Waters
That James Brown, Augusta, Georgia
That Ray Charles, that Stevie Wonder
That Mayfield, that Superfly
That Willie Hutch and that Mack
It's that blues man, that soul man
That OutKast, that Southernplayalisticadillac
It's that Jimi Hendrix, that George Clinton
I feel it in my bones
Aretha Franklin, that Shirley Caesar
Miss Nina Simone
That Sade, that Love is King
That Coltrane, that Love Supreme
That Miles Davis, Bitches Brew
That "beeeyotch" said by Playboy Too.
[Hook x2]
[Verse 3:]
I got things to do, before I meet that glory in the sky
And my baby girl b-day six months away, she gonna be five
So I pray to the Lord he spare me, and I make it by and by
And I help souls stay out of Hell with what I testify
And maybe when I grab that microphone and never lie
That'll merit that he spare me, I won't have to feel that fire
So Killa Kill gonna spit that real on each and every song
And each and every poem, until the good lord call me home, gone!
[Hook]
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