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Right On (Letra)

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

Hey baby

That’s alright people

I know that’s alright

Oh, when we love each other

I know that’s alright

Oh feel it, feel it

Oh everybody feel it

God know that’s alright, yes

Some of us were born

With money to spend

Some of us were born

For races to win

Some of us are aware

That it’s good for us to care

Some of us feel the icy wind

Of poverty blowing in the air

For those of us who simply like to socialize

For those of us who tend the sick

Ah, and heed the people’s cries

Let me say to you

Right on

Right on, feel it

Yea, oh, oh, Oh Lord, Lord, people

And I say, Right on

Honey right on

For those of us who live

Where peace is craved

For those of us who live, uh-huh

Where hatred is enslaved, alright

For those of us who live a life

Yea, surrounded by good fortune and wealth

Talk about it

Those of us who live a life

Hey, hey, hey enjoying ourselves

For those of us who got drowned

In the sea of happiness

For the soul that takes pride in his God

And himself and everything else

Love

That’s all it is

We need love

That’s all it is

Oh, oh

Love, love

Love’s the thing

Love, love, love, love

Sweet love, love

Wonderful love

Ah, true love, love

Love for your brother

Love, for God

Pure love

Love can conquer hate everytime

Give out some love and you’ll find

Peace sublime

And my darling, one more thing

If you let me, I will take you

To live where love is King

Ah, ah baby, baby

Ah, ah, ah, baby

People, people

People who love and care

That’s alright

Alright

Ah….

Compartilhe!

Right On (Letra)

All-4-One

All-4-One

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

[j-ro]
Back in the days, my pops said "right on"
(right on, right on)
All the street poets in the house, write on
(write on, write on)
Black people, right on, right one
(right on, right on)
All my niggas rollin chevy’s on deep-dish chrome, ride on ride on
(ride on, ride on)

I still rock the party till the needle starts skippin
I’m trippin like pippen, spice rum sippin
We’re mentally fastest, head of all our classes
You couldn’t pass us wit a rocket like nasa
We all up in the house like cocky-roaches
Snatchin mc’s out the game like hockey coaches
Fuck it, i’ll break you down like a bucket
I like the bass hittin like a ?
Close encounters of the likwit kind
I’m sick wit mine, writin rhymes on picket signs
It’s the j-r-o, you didn’t know?
Goin off in your face like a dirty pist-ol
You in the house of brews, crime scenes wit no clues
You walkin home bruised, confused wit no shoes
You lose! cuz you got the dilated blues
Here’s some news, my dj rock the mic and the one’s and two’s
And i’m out

[e-swift]
And i’m in
My words are like swords cuttin the paper wit the pen
Yo, dilated could never be annihilated
I waited two albums too long , somebody violated
We migrated to global positioning
All the dj’s listenin, babu mixin it
*babu cut* "e-swift" yeah, the man, the myth
I pass the mic to evidence for the assist
Then i’m ooouuut

[evidence]
And i’m in
My appetite for destruction will eat you up for dinn
Yo only one meal, get sliced to four courses
I’d take me serious, collect your man and forces
I strictly run off select input
Played yourself, don’t have to shoot you in the foot
Cuz you stepped outta bounds without making your rounds
Now you come to my town
Ask rak (yo you on deadly ground)
These last four bars, i’ma heal all my scars
I’m a underground cat but still like money and cars
A cali classic, that’s my word, and my word’s my bond
Dilated peoples, alkaholiks, this joint’s right on

[tash]
My homie king t told me "big tash, right on"
So i’ma (right on, right on)
To all my forty-downin homies in the house tonight
(right on, right on)
To all the sexy-ass ladies if you feelin alright
(right on, right on)
To my dilated homies that be rippin the mic
(right on, right on)

[j-ro]
Whether you writin or ridin, right on
Fresh mc’s must write on
Even if you skateboardin, ride on
Some of these freestylers need to write on like my homie tash

[tash]
I got my write on late at night
Burst a verse until they flow right
My rhymes be action-packed, i wrote these lyrics to a strobe light
I’m tashy, the flashy nigga jumpin out that fast shit
Your rhymes won’t impress me if you said em doin backflips
I crack whips on phones, blow smoke out nose
Niggas peepin out the style, hoes peepin the clothes
A million flows off the slang, bizz-a-pow, bizz-a-bang
Likwit crew is in this bitch, my click be off the chain
Rap off the plane while crackin champagne
Tash for president, you know my campaign
First things first to get ya’ll niggas off the street
You get twenty-five years if you part wit wack beats
You coulda came to ev, you coulda came to swift
That’s why we escalatin while ya’ll niggas need a lift
So give me two secs while i crack this beck’s
And once i drop the mic, my nigga rak is up next
And i’m out

[iriscience]
And i’m in
I pick it up for everybody in the house that spins
My name is rakaa, innovator of rhyme communication
Wit data like star trek: the next generation
It’s dilation, fan appreciation
Connected nationwide, worldwide likwidation
Cali hard-hitters, we bump like car fenders
(it’s all chips) we only get boo’s from bartenders
Better be sure, aim high, we top gunnin
When we touch down, we hit the ground runnin
Feds pull strings and watch me like truman
But i can’t front, i love l.a. like randy newman

[j-ro]
To all the homies locked up writin home, write on c’mon
(write on, write on)
Grafiti artists around the world, write on c’mon
(write on, write on)
To niggas rollin on katanas, quickly ride on c’mon
(ride on, ride on)
To all the women out there raisin kids alone
Right on (right on) right on (right on)
Yeah!

"broadcastin live from southern california" [e-swift]
Where we at?
"broadcastin live from southern california" *cut up by babs*

Dilated peoples
"represent wit tha liks"

Right On (Letra)

Marvin Gaye

Marvin Gaye

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

Yeah, ha
Ladies and gentlemen (Ha, Yeah)
You got money and then bitches
Power..

Ya had it, ya lost it
Ya leased it, ya flossed it
Business fell through now ya comin up off it
He bought it, he rolled it
He passed it, you smoked it
Now ya fucked up off some weed mixed wit coke shit
Ya love her, ya hate her
Ya fucked her, ya raped her
Twenty-five to life cuz ya can’t control ya anger
Its heavy, its deep
Its solid, its weak
Things people say about ya records in the streets (Check it)
Be careful what ya wish for
Ya fuck around and get it
I did it got in it
Spit it and didnt waste a minute
So where my niggas at?
What part of the game is that?
I paid my dues now nobody tryin to pay me back
And if they did i would probably have as much as shaq
My life is the movie so listen to the soundtrack
This what its all about
You better stall me out
And feel the aim of the name you niggas callin out

[Chorus]
If you feelin how im feelin
And you ready and willin
to come to the table
I put it together who doin it better
Come bounce with me (Come on)
You can smoke a whole ounce with me (Right on!)
Take em out!
If you movin how im movin
And you chosen and proven
So lose the illusion
The top guns cue the confusion
Come bounce with me (Come on!)
You can smoke a whole ounce with me (Right on!)
Take em out!

I’m tired, I’m hungry
You’re lazy, disgusting
You’re lay around my house and ya never do nothing
I seen it, believed it
Planned it, conceived it
Missed me with the bullshit bitch I dont need it
I cheated, you cheated
We cheated, so beat it
Eat it like a dick bitch you too conceited
I broke it, replaced it
I slammed it, I chased it
Hands in the air if ya love gettin wasted baby!
You never seen us before
You betta come and get it
You with it im with it
I’m busy baby you fuckin with it
Is it your place or mind
Dont wanna waste your time
And you can get it how you want it it’ll blow ya mind
Its over time
Takin pride in the bump and grind
A hit from behind to leave you with a broken spine
This what its all about
You better stall me out
Its just the game of the name you bitches callin out

[Chorus]

Pop it, drink it
Float it, sink it
Plan to stop me then you better rethink it
Drive it, use it
Pimp it, abuse it
Shit motherfuckers do to hip-hop music
I live it, I die it
I’m laughin, I’m cryin
Pop two of these bitch, lets start flying
I hear it, I taste it
I touched it, I faced it
Breakin down the bullshit back to the basics
I had to kick in the door
Thats how I had to get it
I shitted with lyrics
And getting better for fuckin credit
Gettin gangsta with it
The best that ever did it
Hit it and quit it my nigga
You shouldnt babysit it
We need more emcees and less wannabes
Three hundred and sixty degrees of reality
Thats what its all about
Kill em and haul em out
Now feel the aim of the name you haters callin out

[Chorus]