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lirik lagu the people’s champ – mankind (sciryl & n8!)

mankind ft. dc and lawlyse * “the people’s champ”
[emcee(s): !llumin@te, sciryl, and dc/lawlyse (?)]
[producer(s): [?]]

[verse 1: !llumin@te]
the most electrifying, high, death*defying
i use my pride to project the lion, it makes
the crowd roar, but when i speak, it’s respectful silence
sound boy ‘bout to sound off
for the people’s power, equal pay for an equal hour
single mothers really need the dollar. how much
it cost for us to speak, your honor? since marijuana is
illegal, honor, some candy ass is gonna need the sour
why? the smackdown make your body hurt
i’m like church in versace shirts. it doesn’t mattеr
being c*cky works, but f*ck a job. know your role
when i rock sh*t, it’s hard. on the road, i’m
a star, and every town is the home crowd
i’m highbrow, make ‘em zone out to every
word out of my mouth, i take a pause, little
timeout, and tell the coach, “this is my house”
the champ’s here, talking “elbow grease” to jabronis
full of baloney ‘cause they sell so cheap, they can’t
be real, but crip walks can be sk!lled. homie
fake blood can be spilled, so never lie about it
the truth hurts, but it’s worse if you die without it
i don’t wanna have to write about it. from rock
bottom to the top, i’m hot, i got the counter pull
i grab life by the h*rns like a brahma bull

[verse 2: sciryl]
from rock bottom to the top, shot up. from world
star to the world stage, yo, watch your girl face
change as i walk down the ramp and my anthem plays
mcmahon’ll hate it, the fans’ll praise. it’s like
christmas, and, finally, i’m back in your city on
santa’s sleigh. it doesn’t matter what your parents make
i brought the gift for you wrapped in tin foil, i’ma
get the pin. yeah, boy, i’ma get the win for you
got me ripping with mobs of kids ready to ride ‘cause they
got the spirit, though mama gone and their papa tripping
without a meal or a pot to p*ss in and not
a real thought without the vision, television
locked in the prison, we got the sh*t that keep ‘em optimistic
though times changing and chakras switching
rock bottom, but it’s not the pits, and, no, the nation ain’t
dominant, and sometimes you gotta ride the bench
climb the fence, papa shango, see the witch doctor, godfather
i’m tryna hip*hop ya, king guttah feeling
(“like i been shot with the stigmata of big poppa”) as i
pump “machine funk” for the kids rocking chunks
pigs got the guns. all we got is bricks out the trunk
and the passion of the people’s chants and an inner voice
telling you to feed the family. trying to reach ‘em all
taught me you could be the man. i still do it for the youth
like peter pan, peep the plan, see the damage
keeps your hands clean, increase demand, increase the panic
feed the pantry, delete the famine, beat the pants
off mcmahon, and then we went from mankind to mannequins
rock ‘em sock ‘em robots, blue and red, riding
out and repping, tag*team champions, rock
‘n’ sock connection, perfect balance for my aggression
he entertains, i’m just satisfied with wrestling
rock bottom to the top, partner! from world
star to the world stage. when it drop, call it
“elbow grease.” i’ll march with you ‘til my sh*lltoes crease
n*gga!

- mankind sciryl n8

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