название:

4 Moms


автор:

A Tribe Called Quest


жанры: hip-hop, chillout
альбомы: The Love Movement
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 4.9 / 881 просмотр
–	Okay, son. Let's start this. What's your name?
–	Q-Tip.
–	Where were you going?

I left my wallet in El Segundo,
Left my wallet in El Segundo,
Left my wallet in El Segundo,
I gotta get it, I gotta get it.

My mother went away for a month-long trip,
Her and some friends on an ocean liner ship.
She made a big mistake by leavin' me home,
I had to roam so I picked up the phone,
Dialed Ali up to see what was goin' down,
Told him I pick him up so we could drive around.
Took the Dodge Dart, a ‘74,
My mother left a yard but I needed one more.
Shaheed had me covered with a hundred greenbacks,
So we left Brooklyn, and we made big tracks,
Drove down the Belt, got on the Conduit,
Came to a toll, and paid, and went through it.
Had no destination, we was on a quest,
Ali laid in the back so he can get rest.
Drove down the road for two days and a half,
The sun had just risen on a dusty path,
Just then a figure had caught my eye,
A man with a sombrero who was four feet high,
I pulled over to ask where we was at,
His index finger he tipped up his hat.
‘El segundo', he said, ‘My name is Pedro,
If you need directions, I'll tell you pronto'.
Need a civilization, some sort of reservation,
He said, ‘A mile south there's a fast food station.'
‘Thanks, señor,' as I started the motor,
Ali said, ‘Damn, Tip, what did you drive so far for?'

–	Well, describe to me what the wallet looks like.

Anyway, a gas station we passed,
We got gas and went on to get grub,
It was a nice little pub in the middle of nowhere,
Anywhere would have been better.
I ordered enchiladas and I ate ‘em,
Ali had the fruit punch,
When we finished, we thought for ways to get back,
I had a hunch.
Ali said, ‘Pay for lunch,' so I did it,
Pulled out the wallet and I saw this wicked beautiful lady,
She was a waitress there,
Put the wallet down and stared, and stared.
To put me back into reality, here's Shaheed,
‘Yo, Tip, man, you got what you need?'
I checked for keys and started to step,
And what do you know? My wallet I forget!

–	Yo, it was a brown wallet, it had props numbers, it had my jimmy hats, I gotta get it, man.

Lord, have mercy!
The heat got hotter, Ali starts to curse me,
I feel bad but he makes me feel badder,
Chit-chit-chatter, car starts to scatter.
Breakin' on out, we was northeast bound,
Jettin' on down at the speed of sound,
Three days comin' and three more goin',
We get back, and there was no slack.
490 Madison, we're here, Sha,
He said, “All right, Tip, see you tomorrow.'
Thinkin' about the past week, the last week,
Hands go in my pocket, I can't speak.
Hopped in the car and torped to the shack
Of Shaheed, we gotta go back, when he said,
‘Why?' I said, ‘We gotta go ‘cause I left my wallet in El Segundo!'

I left my wallet in El Segundo,
Left my wallet in El Segundo,
Left my wallet in El Segundo,
I gotta get it, I gotta get it.
C'mon, let's go!
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Это интересно:Звания можно присвоить себе самостоятельно, ими могут наделить продюсеры, используя рекламу и пиар, но вспомнят ли о таких «титулованных» особах спустя годы? Признают ли потомки эти звания и титулы? Будут ли ценить оставленное им наследие? Да и будет ли это наследие, или вся деятельность нынешних легенд сведётся к выпуску хитов-однодневок? Всё это можно пытаться предугадать, но наверняка... продолжение
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