lirik lagu terminal : terminal – xhef & filip neuf
verse 1
its terminal
sudden death
one bite and suddenly heart tellin me theres 5 tracks left
one minute i’m playing my part
now its exit stage left go back to the start
i think
in my heart exists a ring
a beat and a shiny thing
an artist sees eyelids for eternity
to me
passing over just verbose for a jewish holiday
still hot when that thermometer is colder than my grasp
that flash a chill down my spine
would never last
blood thick
in good tunnels for a worm passing by
most of us dont get a birds еye view
i’m staring at the еye of the hawk and it twinkle as it swoop
i feel denial drench my hubris
like i feel a wrinkle on my tooth
its must be a spiritual reboot
cause whats nothing
dont feel nothing i just wanna do what i feel
i feel like doing what i love
until i hold up my part of the deal
be true to me till my eulogy
i am a musician see
specifically i rap
i can’t die
i will attract flips from the flip side
my silence will extend to my steps
but not the tracks i left
they will be loud
verse 2
cop knock on deaths door with a battering ram
writers block the terminal its a strike against the man
like you thought eve was a handful
imma go out spitting
show you what a manful of
this is blood
sweat
regret
love
adrenaline
if life flash before my eyes
imma blink when that camera cl!ck
or when that bra lift
cause who knows what it looks like
i wish rigamortis left the jaw wide
imma be wired on the other side
take the death rattle and transcribe it
i promise its h*ll fire
ironic
its all phonics
my oz stay yelling
state felon the pack fire
the pauses play relevant
my cautions benevolent
they helen keller to the town crier
it ain’t doom, its inspired
i felt my throat close and wrote a cope like an oddessy
i fired all the oil from the diagnosis
it was tar before i wrote this
a sinking ship to a dividing quotient
thats mad tragedies they thinking im promoting
every line a splash 3 pointer
but an ocean deep
thats an ocean spray from my lips
cranberry on my t**th
my whole life people doubting my expertise
cause the roots wasn’t on my sleeve
but theres flowers in my hand
they thought its greed like
the blood is in the vase
i promise you its safe
i hit baskets from an off angle no paint
unknown how i get the pen to shake
i am music i am in my natural place in the booth
in the tomb there better be a sp*ce where i can move the quill
and room for my voice to fill air
i love what i do so imma still be here
like
imma still be here
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