Navajo escribió:Bufff, The Doors siempre me han parecido un grupo de lo más coñazo que te puedas echar a la cara.
Ni caso lunita, que Navajo no tiene paladar y se le agrio el caracter desde que dejaron de sacar recopilaciones del maquina total
Mr. Vain Mxyzptlk
Mira, este es en el que salía la canción de Viceversa que puso.... ¿Jugger?
Gran Megamix, si señor. "Aaaaaaaaaaadeeeeeeeelaaaaaaaaaanteee, aaaaaaaaaaadeeeeeeeeeetráaaaaaaas". Lástima que lo sacaron sin tener los derechos de Mr. Vain y tuvieron que retirarlo de la venta para sacarlo luego con un puto cutre-cover. El que tenga en su poder la primera edición es un suertudo.
Que buena época la de los megamixes, lástima que ahora ni hay, ni hay canciones para hacer megamixes decentes.
Yo lo he intentado, pero es difícil.
Navajo escribió:Bufff, The Doors siempre me han parecido un grupo de lo más coñazo que te puedas echar a la cara.
Tiene su aquel.
Pues a mi tambien....sigo sin entender por que a la gente le gusta tanto. Sera el "efecto bumbury", o algo asi. Se salvan el Light My Fire y el archifamoso Breconzru.
Y Roadhouse blues, Riders on the Storm, Love her madly, Moonlight drive... Jim Morrison parece que fue bastante más especialico que el maño.
Que si, que ya, que no tienen ni punto de comparacion ambos....pero por favor, el Riders on the Storm es el documental de la 2 de la musica rock.
Here are the young men, the weight on their shoulders,
Here are the young men, well where have they been?
We knocked on the doors of hell’s darker chamber,
Pushed to the limit, we dragged ourselves in,
Watched from the wings as the scenes were replaying,
We saw ourselves now as we never had seen.
Portrayal of the trauma and degeneration,
The sorrows we suffered and never were free.
Where have they been? Where have they been? Where have they been? Where have they been?
Weary inside, now our heart’s lost forever,
Can’t replace the fear, or the thrill of the chase,
Each ritual showed up the door for our wanderings,
Open then shut, then slammed in our face.
Where have they been? Where have they been? Where have they been? Where have they been?
Pedro lives out of the wilshire hotel
He looks out a window without glass
The walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet
His father beats him 'cause he's too tired to beg
He's got 9 brothers and sisters
They're brought up on their knees
It's hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs
Pedro dreams of being older and killing the old man
But that's a slim chance he’s going to the boulevard
He's going to end up, on the dirty boulevard
He's going out, to the dirty boulevard
He's going down, to the dirty boulevard
This room cost 2,000 dollars a month
You can believe it man it's true
Somewhere a landlord’s laughing till he wets his pants
No one here dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything
They dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard
Give me your hungry, your tired your poor I'll piss on 'em
That's what the statue of bigotry says
Your poor huddled masses, let's club 'em to death
And get it over with and just dump 'em on the boulevard
Get to end up, on the dirty boulevard
Going out, to the dirty boulevard
He's going down, on the dirty boulevard
Going out
Outside it's a bright night
There's an opera at Lincoln center
Movie stars arrive by limousine
The klieg lights shoot up over the skyline of Manhattan
But the lights are out on the mean streets
A small kid stands by the Lincoln tunnel
He's selling plastic roses for a buck
The traffic's backed up to 39th street
The TV whores are calling the cops out for a suck
And back at the wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming
He's found a book on magic in a garbage can
He looks at the pictures and stares at the cracked ceiling
At the count of 3 he says, I hope I can disappear
And fly fly away, from this dirty boulevard
I want to fly, from dirty boulevard
I want to fly, from dirty boulevard
I want to fly-fly-fly-fly, from dirty boulevard
I want to fly away
I want to fly
Fly, fly away
I want to fly
Fly-fly away (fly a-)
Fly-fly-fly (-way, ooohhh...)
Fly-fly away (I want to fly-fly away)
Fly away (I want to fly, wow-woh, no, fly away)
Que no le guste a alguien the doors, lo entiendo... a mi picasso no me acaba, pero es una letra que ha hecho historia, creo yo...
Para que te gusten los doors quizas tenga que gustarte el rollito psicodelia y dejarte llevar mucho, sin intentar que te trasmita nada, solo dejarte llevar...
A ver, otra letra que para mi gusto a hecho historia y que seguro que a muchos no le gusta pero a mi me encanta jejeje.
joy division
When routine bites hard,
And ambitions are low,
And resentment rides high,
But emotions won't grow,
And we're changing our ways,
Taking different roads.
Then love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Why is the bedroom so cold?
You've turned away on your side.
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect runs so dry.
Yet there's still this appeal
That we've kept through our lives.
But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
You cry out in your sleep,
All my failings exposed.
And there's a taste in my mouth,
As desperation takes hold.
Just that something so good
Just can't function no more.
But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Load up on guns and bring your friends
It's fun to lose and to pretend
She's over bored and self assured
Oh no, I know a dirty word
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
(chorus)
With the lights out it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto
An albino
A mosquito
My Libido
Yay!
I'm worse at what I do best
And for this gift I feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end
Hello, hello, hello, how low?
(chorus)
And I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard, it was hard to find
Oh well, whatever, nevermind
hello, hello, hello, how low?
(chorus)
With the lights out it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto
An albino
A mosquito
My Libido
A denial...
Nirvana Smells Like Teen Spirit
Esta no se si hara historia, supongo que no, pero esta bien.
I’ve got another confession to make
I’m your fool
Everyone’s got their chains to break
Holdin’ you
Were you born to resist or be abused?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Are you gone and onto someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head
Without your noose
You gave me something that I didn’t have
But had no use
I was too weak to give in
Too strong to lose
My heart is under arrest again
But I break loose
My head is giving me life or death
But I can’t choose
I swear I’ll never give in
I refuse
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
Your trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...
Ohhhhhh
Ohhhhhh
Ohhhhhh
Ohh
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
The life, the love
You die to heal
The hope that starts
The broken hearts
Your trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
I’ve got another confession my friend
I’m no fool
I’m getting tired of starting again
Somewhere new
Were you born to resist or be abused?
I swear I’ll never give in
I refuse
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
Your trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...
Corre el año 1996. Cypres Hill y Ice Cube tienen un rifi-rafe; los primeros consideran (con toda la razón del mundo) que Ice Cube les ha robado una canción, de modo que se ponen a rajar de él por la radio. Cuando Ice Cube lo oye, decide contestarles con otra canción, a través de su grupo West side connection. Las partes de Mack10 son claramente inferiores, pero también es verdad que en lo que a ataques dialécticos se refiere no hay dios que pueda con Ice Cube. Y sí, Ice Cube será un cabrón y en verdad que les jodió ese tema a Cypress Hill, pero en esta se sale:
The king of the hill
[Ice Cube]
Oh Yeah,
It ain't over motherf**kers...
Niggas don't understand...
Every few years,
Niggas got to get their motherf**king caps peeled back...
Nigga this is Westside nigga...dont think, nigga DONT THINK!
Now, next motherf**kers...go by the name of Cypress Hill
K all motherf**king day
[Ice Cube]
Every few years niggas think they can deal with the real
Now I gots to f**k Cypress Hill
I got a voice you should fear!
I drink a beer bust a rap and end your f**king career
You f**kin cowards
Never seen a hood high powered
Like the Westside Connect
Slide me my tech
I Got'em
Soon as I spot'em I'm dumpin
Gots to treat these bitch ass niggas like they stole something
I see a joint in your clutch
You're smokin that shit too much
Got your bitch ass touched
Sen Dogg you can't rap from the guts
And B-Real sounding like he got baby nuts
I don't know why y'all think y'all slick
I don't know what rapper down wit your click
I don't know one bitch on your dick
And I don't know one nigga pumping your shit
I hear you claiming South Central wait...
You ain't from my hood!
Y'all hoes from South Gate
Coming with a voice high pitched
The "B" in B-Real must stand for Bitch
[Mack 10]
We'll its the Hip-Hop junkie startin static
Now I'm rolling up Cypress Hill
Letting niggas have it
Got these wannabe thugs up
Load my slugs up
Hey yo back up Cube Dogg we passed that bitch Muggs up
Pull over and let me out this show no sight
And let me show this White Boy
What that Westside Connect like
Boo Ya Boo Ya! from tha gauge as I spit them
Tha buck shots spray and made them lay as I hit'em (Uhhh)
Ain't got the Swedish punks ass no mo'
1 down and 2 to go
Hand me a Fo' Fo'
Let me get my ride on
Get my homicide on
B-Real wish he could be me 'cause he know he can't see me
(Biiiiiitch!)
You should have known you can't fade a real hog
Bringin Inglewood small
Cause I'm a real dogg
You bustas wanna see me but you bustas can't come close
Because I'm ACE homies with Americas Most
Nigga miss me
I'm used to a hoe trying to kiss me
Now what gave your bitch ass enough heart to diss me?
You'll come up missing
And Sen Dogg is so wacked he ain't even worth dissin (hahaha)
You niggas need to listen
On everything I love my heat can't release a dub
F**k rappin f**k strapping I'll create another bloody glove
Its 1 - 0 and For sho' I'll kill
You pussies can't match my skill
Cause I'm the King Of The Hill!
[Ice Cube]
Everybody in the Ghetto, know what you're doing
1 white boy and 2 f**king Cubans
Claiming that you're Loco
But you ain't Mexican
Listen to "No Vaseline" Before you flex again
F**king with tha hoggs
You say you bloods
But you ain't nothing but a Dogg fool
On tour only rapping to tha yuppies
We the Big Fish that'll make a dish out you f**king guppies
So who y'all with?
Niggaz down with Cypress can wipe this shit off my dick
Has I stick it like King Kong
And play Ping Pong
With this fake ass Cheech and Chong
Did you tell ya
Momma that I had to help ya
When Sen Dogg left your bitch ass in Australia
You say that I took your hook?
It must be the White Boy thinking all niggaz crooks
Now What? You hip-hop Hippies
How you f**king junkies
Think you Gonna Punk Me?
And chill
And Deal with tha fact that you ain't got enough skill
To kill
The King Of The Hill
[Mack10]
Ice Cube could you pass me my steel?
[Ice Cube]
For real!
[Mack10]
I'm the king of the Hill!
[Ice Cube]
Mack10 could you pass me my steel?
[Mack10]
For real!
[Ice Cube]
I'm the King of the Hill!
[Mack10]
Ice Cube could you pass me my steel?
[Ice Cube]
For real!
[Mack10]
I'm the king of the Hill!
[Ice Cube]
Westside could you pass me my steel?
[Mack10]
For real!
[Ice Cube]
I'm the King of the Hill!
"I'm havin Illusions"
[Ice Cube]
A Westside niggas whooping on your motherf**kin ass
That's what you gotta loose u lil' BITCH
[Mack10]
Yeah nigga youse a bitch
Dogg we aint got no niggas like you on my side
Nigga this is Inglewood
Westside Yeeeeeah
[Ice Cube]
Check it out...
We're waiting for round 2 you punk ass mothef**kers
And anybody else that wanna get some
Stand in line
But bring a lunch mothef**kers...
Dolordebarriga escribió: ↑18 Jun 2024 17:36he aclarado mil veces que fue por metérsela por el culo a pelo a una amiga durante la noche/madrugada de fin de año
luna escribió:Que no le guste a alguien the doors, lo entiendo... a mi picasso no me acaba, pero es una letra que ha hecho historia, creo yo... Para que te gusten los doors quizas tenga que gustarte el rollito psicodelia y dejarte llevar mucho, sin intentar que te trasmita nada, solo dejarte llevar...
Ya bueno, las letras pueden ser cojonudas, pero en conjunto, letras y música se me hace bastante espeso y pesado, esas canciones tan largas y ese aporrear el hamond hasta la saciedad se me hacen insufribles.
Menos mal que luego se puso de moda la guitarra ritmica y cada vez se usó menos el hamond.
