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    LE SON DU JOUR : Mac Miller ft. Sean Price, « Pet Sounds »

    Le samedi 8 août 2015, Sean Price est décédé subitement dans son sommeil. Nous lui avions rendu hommage comme beaucoup d’autres dont Mac Miller. Pour soutenir la campagne de donation à la famille de Price, ce dernier a décidé de révéler et de mettre en écoute un titre exclusif en collaboration avec le défunt rappeur : « Pet Sounds »

    « I wrote this under the influence of narcotics
    Yeah
    Play them horns!
    Young raspy god
    Why you fucking up my good mood?
    The Bimmer used but it look new
    Your raps dry as over cooked food
    My shit is kaboom
    I took shrooms
    Now I’m playing dodgeball in a crooked room
    So address me as your superior
    Mind on delirium, ice cold interior
    Stirring up the chaos, I’m the cause of the confusion
    Young grown ass nuisance with the strength of 22 men
    Puking all over your brand new accoutrements
    Lucrative, assassin them but shoot to miss
    I turn my body into Eucharist
    Nail me to a crucifix
    If I’m gonna kill myself then I’mma do it big
    Scamming Mount Vesuvius
    We don’t even know what being human is
    And what’s a man when he loses wits?
    Useless as the news at 6
    Fools mean nothing but a bunch of rotten and stupid kids
    I wanna, I wanna punch you (punch you)
    I wanna, wanna, I wa-
    I wanna punch you (punch you)
    I wanna, I wanna punch you in your fucking face (Oh bitch!)
    You live inside a computer
    In 2014, a legend turn to rumor
    Manuever through the world in an Uber
    Born to be a loser to the world, I’m just a tumor they’ll remove
    If I would’ve done my schoolwork
    I could’ve been an Oklahoma Sooner with a golden retriever I named Cooper
    Part time at Kruger’s
    Working on securing me and future the American dream
    Big titty bitches guaranteed a spot on the team
    Bust inside my pants, leave a spot on my jeans
    Clean it up
    Why pretty girls always mean to us
    I’m the Godzilla of mess
    Leave my house forgetting that I’m still in a dress
    *gun sounds*
    Gun sounds, gun sounds
    I wanna, I wanna punch you (punch you)
    I wanna, wanna, I wa-
    I wanna punch you (punch you)
    I wanna, I wanna punch you in your fucking face (Oh bitch!)
    Yeah I wanna, I wanna punch you
    I wanna, wanna, I wa-
    I wanna punch you (punch you)
    I wanna, I wanna punch you in your fucking face (Oh bitch!)
    I’m worldwide but I smack clowns local
    Gunshots, MOP background vocals
    Fire in the hole of the designer of your clothes
    I’m the up and up you fucking up, why you fucking with those
    Planet of the apes, the survival of the goons
    I’m so dope, you could put the lighter on the spoon
    I’m tightest with the tombs, need a verse and I write it son
    Master this shit with no practice bitch, Al Iverson
    Fuck the king of New York, in my presence they all peasants
    The king is all talk
    Whoever holding the crown
    Better pass that shit to me, P I’m holding it down
    Fuck you if you the greatest
    A lot of rappers got killed, fuck around and be the latest
    Your bars warm, my shit smoking
    I pitch [?] I’m Chris Copeland
    Yeah
    I wanna, I wanna punch you (punch you)
    I wanna, wanna, I wa-
    I wanna punch you (punch you)
    I wanna, I wanna punch you in your fucking face (Oh bitch!) »

    Musique Hip-Hop Hommage

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