Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
Lyrkit press

Hello! I'm Lyrkit!

I tried many ways to memorize English words and found the most effective one for me!

We already have all the words of the songs that we have heard throughout our lives in our memory. We simply did not pay attention to them, but we all already hear them!

I noticed that when you learn a new word from a song that you have already heard before, you already know the translation of this word forever and you will never forget it!

I want to share this method with you. So, the scheme is as follows.

We find songs that we have already heard.

We add all unfamiliar words from them.

We pass mini tests of memory games. done

Now that you know a lot of words, you will very quickly come to know the whole language!

I bet you'll be surprised how effective this method is!)

next

skip
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

Or rate me in Windows Store:


And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Madchild

Grenade Launcher

 

Grenade Launcher

(album: Dope Sick - 2012)


[MadChild:]
Mad Child and C-Lance, we formed an alliance
Fuck these bitches, we the horniest ornery giants
The way I rap's mathematics, it's sort of a science
Your rap's wack, I'll do more than just corner your client
I leave 'em fucking mortified, dog, I terrorize
My rhymes are more than fucking clean, holmes, they're sterilized
Sometimes I lean so hard I need a kickstand
I wrestle alligators and I dance on quicksand
I call a rapper Tin Man cause he got no heart
Each line's an arrow dipped in poison from a blow dart
Yeah, these rappers they got no parts
Me against them's a Maserati to a go-kart
These young punks, they think they're so smart
I might be old, but I'm the sickest fucking old fart
I'm so much better, you can blame it on the age difference
You got your party clothes on, I'm wearing beige slippers
I give a fuck about a club, it's just a meat market
These girls will open up their legs like it was free parking
Of course I like to fuck, but there's no challenge
I must have fucked a thousand bitches since we dropped Balance

[Prevail:]
The law of averages says we win again
Hand grenade parade, we blowing up, pull the pin
And then, boom! Make room for Swollen, man
And then, bang! It's a battleaxe thing

The law of averages says we win again
Hand grenade parade, we blowing up, pull the pin
And then, boom! Make room for Swollen, man
And then, bang! It's a battleaxe thing

Street fight, pit fight, red nose, blue nose
Old school vinyl so cold like blue note
Head spin, head win fills up the sails with
Prevail's gifts, press to lean, my recipe is very secret
See my destiny inscribed on a tablet stone
Rappers leave rap alone unless it's in your chromosomes
Monsters in your closet, watch it, turn you to skeleton bones
Think you Mr. Hardcore, calling you Gelatin Jones
Look upon my Boardwalk Empire, Al Capone
You think you "Lucky" like Luciano, test my bravado
Over this piano leave you cold and you won't see tomorrow
Sorrow follows, hollows sleepy
Headless Horseman, the water rush deeply
Percussion real freaky, bang drums like a marching band
Art form swarms like the wasp in the savage lands
Sting with the poison of November born scorpions

The law of averages says we win again
Hand grenade parade, we blowing up, pull the pin
And then, boom! Make room for Swollen, man
And then, bang! It's a battleaxe thing

The law of averages says we win again
Hand grenade parade, we blowing up, pull the pin
And then, boom! Make room for Swollen, man
And then, bang! It's a battleaxe thing

[Slaine:]
The older I get, the more crazy and sicker I think
I got a wet brain from all the fucking liquor I drink
I wake up broke and obsessed about sticking a Brink's
Fuck a bitch raw, dog, and wash my dick in the sink
Nah, dog, I ain't saved a penny I made
I just stay up all night rocking with that Henny brigade
I done been around the world fucking Kimmy and Jade
Brenda and Holly, I'll prolly end up skinny with aids
Golly, I took some molly, bitch, you really wanna party? Good
You can ride the white horse all the way to Hollywood
You can be a Harvard, a starlet and have a TV show
Charlotte, once you get me started, you should see me go
In the company of Mad Men, I'm the CEO
Yeah, I got a fat fucking stomach and a greasy flow
Nobody likes me cause I'm ignorant, a cocky fuck
Try and battle me, I'll fucking slap you like a hockey puck

[Prevail:]
The law of averages says we win again
Hand grenade parade, we blowing up, pull the pin
And then, boom! Make room for Swollen, man
And then, bang! It's a battleaxe thing

The law of averages says we win again
Hand grenade parade, we blowing up, pull the pin
And then, boom! Make room for Swollen, man
And then, bang! It's a battleaxe thing

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?