It looks like you are browsing from United States. Please select your region for the best experience.
No thank you

Video Karaoke Middle Child - J. Cole

Este tema es una versión de Middle Child, que popularizó J. Cole

Formatos disponibles:

CDG (MP3+G)
MP4
KFN
?

El formato CDG (también llamado CD+G o MP3+G) es compatible con la mayoría de los reproductores de karaoke. Incluye un archivo MP3 y la letra sincronizada (Versión Karaoke solo vende archivos digitales (MP3+G) y NO recibirás un CD).

Los archivos MP4 pueden reproducirse en MAC OS X y Windows 7 de manera predeterminada.
Si tienes Windows XP o Vista, puedes utilizar Windows Media Player 12.

Este formato es compatible con el KaraFun Windows Player, un programa de karaoke gratuito. Te permite activar o desactivar los coros y la voz principal, además de cambiar el tono o el tempo.

Con tu compra podrás descargar el vídeo tantas veces como quieras en todos estos formatos.

Acerca de

Mismo tempo que el original: 124 BPM

Tonalidad idéntica al original: DOm

Duración: 03:32 - Escuchar en: 01:17

LETRA EXPLÍCITA

Fecha de publicación: 2019
Géneros: Rap & Hip-Hop, En inglés
Compositor original: Norman Ray Harris, Allan Wayne Felder, Jermaine Cole, Tyler Mathew Carl Williams

Todos los archivos disponibles para descargar son pistas reproducidas, no es la música original.

Letra Middle Child

You good T-Minus
Niggas been countin' me out
I'm countin' my bullets
I'm loadin' my clips
I'm writin' down names
I'm makin' a list
I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit
The real ones been dyin'
The fake ones is lit
The game is off balance
I'm back on my shit
The Bentley is dirty
My sneakers is dirty but that's how I like it
You all on my dick
I'm all in my bag
This hard as it get
I do not snort powder
I might take a sip
I might hit the blunt but I'm liable to trip
I ain't poppin' no pill but you do as you wish
I roll with some fiends
I love 'em to death
I got a few mil' but not all of them rich
What good is the bread if my niggas is broke
What good is first class if my niggas can't sit
That's my next mission that's why I can't quit
Just like LeBron
Get my niggas more chips
Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist
This watch came from Drizzy
He gave me a gift
Back when the rap game was prayin' I'd diss
They act like two legends cannot coexist
But I'd never beef with a nigga for nothin'
If I smoke a rapper it's gon' be legit
It won't be for clout
It won't be for fame
It won't be 'cos my shit ain't sellin' the same
It won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers
It won't be 'cos some nigga slid in my lane
Everything grows
It's destined to change
I love you lil' niggas
I'm glad that you came
I hope that you scrape every dollar you can
I hope you know money won't erase the pain
To the OGs
I'm thankin' you now
Was watchin' you when you was pavin' the ground
I copied your cadence
I mirrored your style
I studied the greats
I'm the greatest right now
Fuck if you feel me
You ain't got a choice
Now I ain't do no promo
Still made all that noise
This shit gon' be different
I set my intentions
I promise to slap all that hate out your voice
Niggas been countin' me out
I'm countin' my bullets
I'm loadin' my clips
I'm writin' down names
I'm makin' a list
I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit
The real ones been dyin'
The fake ones is lit
The game is off balance
I'm back on my shit
The Bentley is dirty
My sneakers is dirty but that's how I like it
You all on my dick
I just poured somethin' in my cup
I've been wantin' somethin'
I can feel
Promise I am never lettin' up
Money in your palm don't make you real
Foot is on they neck
I got 'em stuck
Imma give 'em somethin' they can feel
If it ain't 'bout the squad don't give a fuck
Pistol in your hand don't make you real
I'm dead in the middle of two generations
I'm little bro and big bro all at once
Just left the lab with young 21 Savage
I'm 'bout to go and meet
Jigga for lunch
Had a long talk with the young nigga Kodak
Reminded me of young niggas from 'Ville
Straight out the projects
No fakin', just honest
I wish that he had more guidance for real
Too many niggas in cycle of jail
Spendin' they birthdays inside of a cell
We comin' from a long bloodline of trauma
We raised by our mamas
Lord we gotta heal
We hurtin' our sisters
The babies as well
We killin' our brothers
They poisoned the well
Distorted self image
We set up to fail
Imma make sure that the real gon' prevail nigga
I just poured somethin' in my cup
I've been wantin' somethin'
I can feel
Promise I am never lettin' up
Money in your palm don't make you real
Foot is on they neck
I got 'em stuck
Imma give 'em somethin' they can feel
If it ain't 'bout the squad don't give a fuck
Pistol in your hand don't make you real
Money in your palm don't make you real
Pistol in your hand don't make you real
Money in your palm don't make you real

Queda prohibida su reproducción

Informar de un error en la letra

Enviar Cancelar