キー: C major
Verse 1
Dbm
See me, standing sometimes,
uprightly, so tightly clasped
Grasped by many like
a new found penny
Faces elate at the chance
to demonstrate
Dance of state, Ted,
word said, dead without me
I see, T's and P's normally poppin'
Now stoppin',
when shifted and drifted
Through my filter droppin'
Drop! Hear me!
Coilin' and coilin' my waves magnetic
Turn to energy kinetic but it's bent
When it's sent through springs
And output things opposite line
I find my way to the stand
Though sometimes just hand
My band of equal lives and still tantalizing
And I'm rising to the vocal cord
Though cordless sometimes
I pave through a radio wave
My streets of cities audible
Where towns of frowns
and piles of smiles
And styles are freely expelled
to the use of decibels
When held correctly,
though some just reject me
Treating me as their enemy,
I see their fear
How they won't come near, they stare
Clear of my coils, moving, soothing to most
No boasting isn't my intention
Needless to mention,
I bring the best out
Responsible for reverberating
of tonsils
Amplified through my station
It's more than demonstration
of exhalation
This is my occupation
Gettin' torn in every direction
Where's my protection from
these fiends?
Supposedly fiends,
and it seems to be a constant riot
Please learn to be quiet
Hey there, Mr. Mike, they say
Can we come and play with yous
and abuse you?
But not in so many words
necessarily spoken
Yet I'm left broken by thoughts
so wrongly entertained
Thinkin' they was trained by osmosis
While I get infected with halitosis
And comatose the swerves that
Pulled out their hat
They bat at home plates
Riking out, no doubt they should wait
Or the fate of big drums will be violence
From their lack of silence
I wasn't created for this
It's a diss
Disguised as a kiss
But a kiss of death
Use me
To dance and make prance
with linguistic
Logistic ego for we go terrific
Together with skilled and
spirit -filled tongue
Sung illustrations hung on
walls of mines,
demoted, crushed and corroded
Singing songs of joy
when anointing is decoded
So I will persist to be inside fist
with my job to make louder
I couldn't be prouder than to be used
as a tool spooling 60 hertz tone
Mr. Mike is preferred,
but heard like our bone
In my home of sand, land of debris,
in Galilee the talently impaired
Will be responsible for turning my page
until the call knocks on my
door center stage
So who will be next to come
turn my page?
Till then I wait patiently at
the floor center stage
Who am I?
Mr. Mike, our phone
How tight? It's me, Mr. Mike,
can't stand a fist
So I will persist to make louder
Couldn't be prouder than to stand alone
It's Mr. Mike, our phone
How tight? It's me, Mr. Mike,
can't stand a fist
So I will persist to make louder
Couldn't be prouder than to stand alone
It's Mr. Microphone, and I'm type
It's me, Mr. Mic, and a standoffist
So I will persist in my job to make it louder
But if you're prouder than a stand -alone
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コードDbm F#m
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4.8
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