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First Person Shooter Karaoke - Drake & J. Cole

Tämä tallenne on cover-versio kappaleesta First Person Shooter, jonka teki tunnetuksi Drake
saavutus. J. Cole

Sisältää seuraavat tiedostomuodot:

CDG (MP3+G)
MP4
KFN
?

CDG formaatti (jota myös kutsutaan nimellä CD+G or MP3+G) on yhteensopiva useimpien karaokelaitteiden kanssa. Se sisältää MP3 raidan ja sykronoidut lyriikat.

MP4 tiedostot toimivat ongelmitta MAC OS X ja Windows7:ssä.
Jos käytät Windows XP:tä tai Vistaa, toistoon soveltuu Windows Media Player 12.

Tämä tiedostomuoto sopii ilmaiseen KaraFun Windows Player-ohjelmaan,. Sen avulla voit kytkeä päälle tai pois taustalaulun ja ohjelaulun sekä muuttaa sävellajia tai tempoa.

Ostosi antaa sinulle oikeuden ladata ostamaasi videota niin paljon kuin haluat kaikissa näissä tiedostomuodoissa.

Tietoja

Tempo: vaihtelee (temmossa 69 BPM)

Samassa sävellajissa kuin alkuperäinen: F♯m

Kesto: 04:07 - Esikuuntele: 00:36

SELKEÄ SANOITUS

Julkaisuvuosi: 2023
Tyylilajit: Rap & Hip-Hop, Englanniksi
Alkuperäinen lauluntekijä: Isaac John D De Boni, Michael Finatik Mule, Brytavious Lakeith Chambers, Ozan Yildirim, Boi-1da, Anderson Hernandez, Jermaine Cole, Drake, Scotty Lavell Coleman, Joseph Washington

Kaikki tallennettavat tiedostot ovat taustanauhoja, ne eivät ole alkuperäisiä äänitteitä.

Sanat First Person Shooter

Pew
Pew pew
First person shooter mode
We turnin' your song to a funeral
To them niggas that say they want offices you better be talkin' my work in cubicles
Yeah them boys had it locked but I knew the code
Lot of niggas debatin' my numeral
Not the three, not the two
I'm the U-N-O
Yeah
Numero U-N-O
Me and Drizzy
This shit like the Super Bowl
Man this shit damn near big
Aah
Big as the what ah as the
Big as the what ah
Big as the what ayy
Big as the Super Bowl
But the difference is it's just two guys playin' shit that they did in the studio
Niggas usually send they verses back to me and they be terrible just like a two-year old
I love a dinner with some fine women when they start debatin' about who the G.O.A.T
I'm like Go 'head
Say it then
Who the G.O.A.T.
Who the G.O.A.T.
Who the G.O.A.T.
Who the G.O.A.T.
Who you bitches really rootin' for
Like a kid that act bad from January to November
Nigga it's just you and Cole
Big as the what ayy
Big as the what ah
Big as the what ayy
Big as the Super Bowl
Niggas so thirsty to put me in beef
Dissectin' my words and start lookin' too deep
I look at the tweets and start suckin' my teeth
I'm lettin' it rock 'cos I love the mystique
I still wanna get me a song with YB
Can't trust everything that you saw on IG
Just know if I diss you
I made sure you know that I hit you like
I'm on your caller ID
I'm namin' the album The Fall Off
It's pretty ironic 'cos it ain't no fall off for me
Still in this bitch gettin' bigger
They waitin' on the kid to come jot like a father to be
Love when they argue the hardest MC
Is it K-Dot, is it Aubrey or me
We the big three like we started a league but right now I feel like
Muhammed Ali
Huh yeah yeah huh huh
Yeah Muhammed Ali
The one that they call when they shit ain't connectin' no more
Feel like I got a job in IT
Rhymin' with me is the biggest mistake
The Spider-Man meme is me lookin' at Drake
It's like we recruited your homies to beat demon deacons
We got 'em attendin' your wake
Hate how the game got away from the bars
Man this shit like a prison escape
Everybody steppers, well fuck it
Then everybody breakfast and I'm 'bout to clear up my plate
Huh huh huh
When I show up
It's motion picture blockbuster
The G.O.A.T. with the golden pin
The top toucher
The spot rusher
Sprayed his whole shit up
The crop duster
Not Russia but apply pressure to your cranium
Cole's automatic when aimin' 'em
With The Boy in the status
A stadium
Nigga
Ayy
I'm 'bout to
I'm 'bout to
I'm 'bout to
Yeah
Yeah
I'm 'bout to click out on this shit
I'm 'bout to click woah
I'm 'bout to click out on this shit
I'm 'bout to click woah
I'm down to click down you hoes and make a crime scene
I click the trigger on the stick like a high beam
Man I was Bentley wheel whippin' when I was nineteen
She call my number
Leave her hangin'
She got dry-cleaned
She got an Android
Her messages is lime green
I search one name and end up seein' twenty tings
Nadine, Christine
Justine, Kathleen
Charlene, Pauline, Claudine
Man I pack 'em in this phone like some sardines
And they send me naked pictures
It's just small things
You niggas still takin' pictures on a Gulfstream
My youngins richer than you rappers and they all stream
I really hate that you been sellin' them some false dreams
Man if your pub was up for sale
I buy the whole thing
Will they ever give me flowers well of course not
They don't wanna have that talk 'cos it's a sore spot
They know The Boy
The one they gotta boycott
I told Jimmy Jam
I use a Grammy as a door stop
Girl gave me some head because I need it
And if I fuck with you then after I might eat it, what
Niggas talkin' 'bout when this gon' be repeated
What the fuck bro
I'm one away from Michael
Nigga beat it, nigga beat it, what
Beat it, what, beat it, what
Beat it, what, beat it, what
Beat it, what, beat it, what
Beat it, what, beat it, what
Beat it, what, beat it, what
Beat it ayy, beat it, what
Don't even pay me back on none them favors
I don't need it

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