under the hood - dicon lyrics
intro:
oh, you think i’m satisfied with life ?
but i’m just…
chorus:
hiding my mood, mood, mood
under the hood, hood, hood
i’m gonna shoot, shoot, shoot
’cause my rhymes are bullets.(whoop, whoop!)
i am that dude, dude, dude
who is too rude, rude, rude
sorry, for that, but you know, it’s my att-tude
and it’s just good, fu2!
but you can’t see my tears, (they are under my)
hood hides me from fears
verse 1:
anyway, i’m gonna start from common trouble, that i’ve struggled with so long, so i’ve never let it go, ’cause then i feel like i’m humble
“oh, c’mon!” i bet, you know that problem probably, ’cause it crumbles everyone
makes you hungry, like a hundred years without food for thought
creates an illusion that you could be someone better then you are right now, makes your mood be low. (yo’)
beautiful, precious ideas are invisible physically deep below in my heart
the memories became too sharp (too sharp). all the melodies became too known
i know it’s hard enough not to feel the pain, and no pill can save you from the h-ll, you’re in
so just try to play with this sh-t. i really hate the feeling, but i live with that sh-t
i’ve been a weird one, well, sorry for da cr-p. i need a beat to rap just to beat the rap
the feeling, that i meant has no name as me, but i guess it’s close to the apathy
my second personality became too nuts, it hates me now
but i’m glad it has no guns, head’s too f-cked to make new tracks and bombs. fame dies, game over, but i am just…
chorus:
hiding my mood, mood, mood
under the hood, hood, hood
i’m gonna shoot, shoot, shoot
’cause my rhymes are bullets.(whoop, whoop!)
i am that dude, dude, dude
who is too rude, rude, rude
sorry, for that, but you know, it’s my att-tude
and it’s just good, fu2!
but you can’t see my tears, (they are under my)
hood hides me from fears. (mood is undermined)
verse 2:
well, i know, i have a perfect flow
h-ll, oh no, those rappers suck my b-lls
man, i hope, you see it’s just a joke. (d-mn!)
to the truth, i’m sick of flow like this. i’m not a jerk
so somebody fix me, i’m like a robot nixon. back on those rappers, but it’s none of your business
ya’ll gonna be my victims, ’cause this weekend i’m about to k!ll these mumble mcs. hope you hear this
lil b-tches, as fake as religious preachers, as scary as spooky creatures
old school is the richest. like a big chest, undermen understand how to show da real pictures
keep secrets, i’m annoying as a blister, i will never leave your body even with a glister
i was convinced that you missed me, used to be as idiot like mr.bean
(well) rap’s run out of steam, but. (yeah) i’m a lion like simba
till i’m online in hip-hop, these rappers die, but i am just
chorus:
hiding my mood, mood, mood
under the hood, hood, hood
i’m gonna shoot, shoot, shoot
’cause my rhymes are bullets.(whoop, whoop!)
i am that dude, dude, dude
who is too rude, rude, rude
sorry, for that, but you know, it’s my att-tude
and it’s just good, fu2!
but you can’t see my tears, (they are under my)
hood hides me from fears. (mood is undermined)
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