thabiso "amen ra" bokaba - bazo lyrics
bazo(prod by el ripper):
intro:
i guess i wasn’t good enough for vuzu hustle–
even though i’d win first prize with no need for a tussle–
coz my words are sticks and stones that tear through bone and muscle–
so by the end of this verse i might be forced to wear a muzzle–
hook:
bazo–
(((bazo, bazo)))–
khala, ngale, ntwana–
(((ngale ntwana, ngale ntwana)))–
yase, ale, xandra–
(((alexandra, alexandra)))–
bonke, bazo, gcwala–
(((bazo gcwala, bazo gcwala)))–
ngale, ntwana–
verse 1:
let’s remind those that forgot what hip hop is about–
i’m taking over the news, north, east, west and south–
u n-gg-s ain’t the game ur just running ur mouth–
and if u want beef i got plenty, u might end up with gout–
exorcise my inner demons till
them b-tches perspire–
u n-gg-s recycle lines forgetting that they expire–
to me it’s what i breathe but others just call it fire–
like the opposite of hire
or a dragon when it’s tired–
keep my hair locked coz i’m not tryna loose my mind–
i swear i’m bout to blow, u know like when stars collide–
i’m transforming this game with each line that rhymes–
my flooow is so optimus, but i’m nowhere near my prime–
hope u get the picture–
soul ancient as every scripture–
no comparison i’m sicker–
no doctor could figure–
how to fully cure this n-gg—
a living, breathing enigma–
waaay brighter than a glimmer–
infectious just like a stigma–
my mind’s tryna escape so it’s throwing out all these bars–
that’s why i sound so different to all these rapping r-t-rds–
screw ur favourite rapper, who is it cole, lamar?–
better ask quickly if he’s heard of amen ra–
hook:
bazo–
(((bazo, bazo)))–
khala, ngale, ntwana–
(((ngale ntwana, ngale ntwana)))–
yase, ale, xandra–
(((alexandra, alexandra)))–
bonke, bazo, gcwala–
(((bazo gcwala, bazo gcwala)))–
ngale, ntwana–
verse 2:
they claim to be the best, dead or alive–
in this, day and time, well tell them they all lied–
ngoba hip hop died, shortly after 95–
i was possessed by it’s spirit so u know i alone survived–
while all ur 16s sounding like nursery rhymes–
every time i get to spitting, they be pressing rewind–
even those that hear witnessing this sh-t live–
so much info in these lines, leave ur mental fried–
spitting hot bars that cause way more than dehydration–
3rd degree burns, broke bones and dislocation–
while all u brag about is monetary compensation–
and then claim to be the shot when all we see is constipation–
i keep having premonitions–
about my so called compet-tion–
if that’s a valid description–
coz in each one of my visions–
they looking more like victims–
so as a point of correction–
i compete with my reflection–
hook:
bazo–
(((bazo, bazo)))–
khala, ngale, ntwana–
(((ngale ntwana, ngale ntwana)))–
yase, ale, xandra–
(((alexandra, alexandra)))–
bonke, bazo, gcwala–
(((bazo gcwala, bazo gcwala)))–
ngale, ntwana–
verse 3:
i guess i wasn’t good enough for vuzu hustle–
even though i’d win first prize with no need for a tussle–
coz my words are sticks and stones that tear through bone and muscle–
so by the end of this verse i might be forced to wear a muzzle–
coz i’m young black and deprived, with such profound ideas–
like the elevator’s broken, i get so many stares–
gomora’s finest rapper that got all these boys in fear–
i’m to street, like a t-junction, cross me if u dare–
(((hook)))
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