Biografía:
Jedi Mind Tricks (JMT) es un grupo underground de hip-hop de Filadelfia, Estados Unidos. El grupo lo forman dos amigos de instituto, Vinnie Paz (Vincenzo Luvineri) Mc -antes conocido como Salenko- y Stoupe (K. Z. Baldwin) como productor y DJ. El grupo es conocido por las originales producciones de Stoupe y por las afiladas letras de Vinnie, además de por su lista de colaboraciones con importantes artistas de rap, como Kool G Rap, Heltah Skeltah, Ras Kass, Canibus, Killah Priest, y GZA del Wu-Tang Clan.
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Otras canciones:
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
[Intro]
Am Em B Am B Em
[Verse 1]
Em
Yo, serious syllable wordplay, verse spray
C
Like a desert bird please, niggaz, where the curb lay
B
Turn plagen, pretty shitty on a church day
B
Ya city my committee, tustle where the dirt stay
Em
Smoke inside the cell dirt, tray's are undercovers
C
Old head feed kids, have to run the numbers
B
Damn shame niggaz in my crew can't bang
B
You the man, fame, here's my man frame, champagne
Em
Swig to the wig, Belle', vodka, hit my rib
C
Corona beers with a slice of lemon first dig
B
On an open mic, growl follows, space over night
B
Destroying your perimeter, players and prototypes
Em
(High powers) lift through your soul, through die shower
C
Resurrected your spirit, with lyrics for top dollars
B
My squad, holler the loudest, y'all niggaz childish
B
We grown folk here, spittin' raw street knowledge
[Chorus]
Em C
Y'all can't touch us, cause we ain't fuckin' around
B
And y'all can't fuck with us, or else we buckin' dem down x2
[Verse 2]
Em
This animal rap, cannibal rap that we make
C
I hate all, hate law and hate jake
B
I hate everything that you stand for, it's fake
B
Cuz everybody bitin' the gods, a day late
Em
I maintain, handle beef Islamly
C
Manage my life calmly, like I was Gandhi
B
Fuckin' with Vinnie Paz, the one man army
B
It take a shack and metal tank to harm me
Em
Come on b, why you trynna to build
C
Why you trynna get ya whole entire family killed
B
I'm like a demon outta Amityville
B
I'm the motherfuckin' that you had any skill
Em
With tight ill, crack ya head like when an egg drop
C
And put you in the figure-four leglock
B
And make ya head bop, cause we the rawest around
B
Vinnie Paz, with my man Stoupe holdin' me down
[Chorus]
Em C
Y'all can't touch us, cause we ain't fuckin' around
B
And y'all can't fuck with us, or else we buckin' dem down x2
[Verse 3]
Em
Surrender and quit (or I'ma let the venomous spit)
C
Tremendous equip (we buggin' off the Hennessy sip)
B
The weaponry hit (we hit you with the heavenly shit)
B
Only reason you live (cuz we at the end of the clip)
Em
The energy split (young cats must be sick in the brain)
C
We hittin' the vain (cuz of y'all spittin' the same)
B
We shookin' the flame (and mounted all the chips in ya chain)
B
We stick to the game (ran and inflicted the pain)
Em
The stitches remain (and matter fact, we sonnin' y'all kids)
C
And after that we snatchin' up ya son and ya wiz
B
(We robbin' the kids, and puttin' metal slugs in ya wigs)
B
We stuck in the crib (frozen with your gut to the fridge)
Em
We cuttin' ya ribs (Jed Mind stifflin' y'all)
C
It's right from the far (we pointin' fuckin' rifles at y'all
B
You ain't icey at all, we provoke the sheisty to brawl)
B
If y'all sleep, Outerspace, slicin' ya jaw
[Chorus]
Em C
Y'all can't touch us, cause we ain't fuckin' around
B
And y'all can't fuck with us, or else we buckin' dem down x2
Am Em B Am B Em
[Verse 1]
Em
Yo, serious syllable wordplay, verse spray
C
Like a desert bird please, niggaz, where the curb lay
B
Turn plagen, pretty shitty on a church day
B
Ya city my committee, tustle where the dirt stay
Em
Smoke inside the cell dirt, tray's are undercovers
C
Old head feed kids, have to run the numbers
B
Damn shame niggaz in my crew can't bang
B
You the man, fame, here's my man frame, champagne
Em
Swig to the wig, Belle', vodka, hit my rib
C
Corona beers with a slice of lemon first dig
B
On an open mic, growl follows, space over night
B
Destroying your perimeter, players and prototypes
Em
(High powers) lift through your soul, through die shower
C
Resurrected your spirit, with lyrics for top dollars
B
My squad, holler the loudest, y'all niggaz childish
B
We grown folk here, spittin' raw street knowledge
[Chorus]
Em C
Y'all can't touch us, cause we ain't fuckin' around
B
And y'all can't fuck with us, or else we buckin' dem down x2
[Verse 2]
Em
This animal rap, cannibal rap that we make
C
I hate all, hate law and hate jake
B
I hate everything that you stand for, it's fake
B
Cuz everybody bitin' the gods, a day late
Em
I maintain, handle beef Islamly
C
Manage my life calmly, like I was Gandhi
B
Fuckin' with Vinnie Paz, the one man army
B
It take a shack and metal tank to harm me
Em
Come on b, why you trynna to build
C
Why you trynna get ya whole entire family killed
B
I'm like a demon outta Amityville
B
I'm the motherfuckin' that you had any skill
Em
With tight ill, crack ya head like when an egg drop
C
And put you in the figure-four leglock
B
And make ya head bop, cause we the rawest around
B
Vinnie Paz, with my man Stoupe holdin' me down
[Chorus]
Em C
Y'all can't touch us, cause we ain't fuckin' around
B
And y'all can't fuck with us, or else we buckin' dem down x2
[Verse 3]
Em
Surrender and quit (or I'ma let the venomous spit)
C
Tremendous equip (we buggin' off the Hennessy sip)
B
The weaponry hit (we hit you with the heavenly shit)
B
Only reason you live (cuz we at the end of the clip)
Em
The energy split (young cats must be sick in the brain)
C
We hittin' the vain (cuz of y'all spittin' the same)
B
We shookin' the flame (and mounted all the chips in ya chain)
B
We stick to the game (ran and inflicted the pain)
Em
The stitches remain (and matter fact, we sonnin' y'all kids)
C
And after that we snatchin' up ya son and ya wiz
B
(We robbin' the kids, and puttin' metal slugs in ya wigs)
B
We stuck in the crib (frozen with your gut to the fridge)
Em
We cuttin' ya ribs (Jed Mind stifflin' y'all)
C
It's right from the far (we pointin' fuckin' rifles at y'all
B
You ain't icey at all, we provoke the sheisty to brawl)
B
If y'all sleep, Outerspace, slicin' ya jaw
[Chorus]
Em C
Y'all can't touch us, cause we ain't fuckin' around
B
And y'all can't fuck with us, or else we buckin' dem down x2
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