Royce - City Heat (feat. Meaty Ogre + Qwel)

I just had to upload this one on youtube, sorry Jeff! I couldn't find this anywhere else online to share with the world to let them know the glory that is ROYCE

ROYCE
TUFF LOVE

available at www.GALAPAGOS4.com



LYRICS:

(Meaty Ogre)
I seen a man the other day down on the corner of state and lake
he was playin an old beat up set of drums now.
Watch em as brings the heat
He smacked them skins until they bruised,
his pitiful heart full of pitiful booze
and the rhythm made the people stop and stare down.
Gotta follow the rules
Sticks made slaps that sounded like his past
raised by mistakes of a fucked up dad,
and he's 46 now and not a dollar to his name,
warped kick drum with a cracked oak frame,
and a pack of smokes chain, smoking with the cracked high hats,
clack clackin like the rythms in his brain, goin' physically insane
hitting riddles in the rain, hittin 64th notes between the 4:4 pain.
He dreams of beats
Warm place to sleep
Born with out heat
Big City Heat

(Jamie)
Underneath old power lines, beyond the airport, northwest side,
she takes the bus to the Blue line, gym shoes double tied.
And starts her day on the subway,
nine to five so she can pay,
graduate and move away, State and Lake, cityscape.
Reverberations coming from somebody banging on the drums,
fast moving feet pitching pennies at his feet. She stops to peep,
the beat, she stops to peep the beat, feels the rhythm in her feet.
Decides to stay and watch him play, pound away the pain from games
She's coming up
Up on her own
Fast moving feet
Big city heat

(Qwel)
He say, he don't mind the heat,
but she can see it in his lyin eyes, his time, his soul, his violent beat.
She say, it's going fine, ain't slept for weeks.
But he can keep in a wrinkle of a twinkling eye winkin' hi where the silence meets.
She spoke, these days, the rollin' drum is what I'm tryin to be.
The beatin air snare breathin stare, teeth glaring heat, stingin careless free.
East lake, deep gray. The blazin air with the scarcest breeze
but how the music sort of sooths the soul cold is blue and gold cools the soles of feet.
He plays, she stares, but don't see how he longs to sleep.
Recievin what she wastes for days eatin paper plates, he can taste the grease.
She sways and hangs to the rumble of the drummers beat.
The shuffle of the bustle and hustle and feet
summer scufflin up the tunnel runnin from the pummelin heat.
She prays, deep pangs, raised up from under the street.
The thunderin beat, it reminds him of rain and the changing pace and the trouble in me.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• galapagos4
• qwel
• meaty
• ogre
• royce
• tuff
• love
• city
• heat
• jam1photo

[TimShizzlish]

Awesome (as usual)! Keep up the good work!