Dr. Dre - As the World Keeps Turning Lyrics
Lyrics Translation
Dr. Dre's "As the World Keeps Turning" was released on November 16, 1999, as part of his album 2001. The track features a compelling blend of rhythmic beats and introspective lyrics, showcasing Dre's ability to address social issues and personal struggles. Co-written by Dr. Dre, "As the World Keeps Turning" reflects on the ever-changing nature of life and the challenges that come with it, emphasizing resilience and perseverance. The song’s engaging production and thought-provoking themes make it a significant addition to the album, highlighting Dre's artistry and relevance in the hip-hop landscape.
Song lyrics
As the world keeps turning
Chronic keeps burning
(This ain't no) street sermon
These niggas are determined
As the world keeps turning
Chronic keeps burning
(This ain't no) street sermon
These niggas are determined
I flow like CDs in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm, pitch from the funk
I deodorize the musty, ya rhymes are crusty, you can't bust G
So leave me alone I'm in the zone
Walking the streets on my own, nigga get blown
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone
But I'm low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
You motherfuckin' clone, get off that nigga's style and get you own
It's Miscellane and it's on again
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step
And kept ya big fuckin' mouth shut
As the world keeps turning
Chronic keeps burning
(This ain't no) street sermon
These niggas are determined
I woke up with a stomach ache, headache, back ache
Advil, Tylenol, Peptol, slept so long realised my world is wrong
My world is gone like disco
Blowing up Cisco and in my Cammo
Standing in back of me was my soul
Thinking of the easiest way to get a bank roll
Knowledge is urban-able, exhaust manifold
A tar can of hoes to lubricate my system quick
Shaky bitches off the dick
'Cause she got a vice grip on the flow from my lips
I'm slow but equipped with the proper tools
Show me the one talking shit so I can drop a fool
I'm out to glow a nigga roll if he think he Mr Cream
Come back on the scene and smoke a phillie, G
I really dream of getting mine now let me tell you what's silly
Me, bucking with my team is murder one
I heard a gun busting shots (shots!), down the block (block!)
I guess a nigga getting what he got (got!)
Shit is heavy like a medicine ball and broke niggas to smoke niggas
I'll fuck one for y'all, they made ya last phone call
To a trick that didn't even care
'Cause she was getting fucked somewhere, you're stuck in there
Now you wanna bust, nigga, now you wanna kill, nigga (Nigga)
Nigga how ya feel? (Nigga)
You can't try to be real (You can't try to be real)
Shit is for real
As the world keeps turning
Chronic keeps burning
(This ain't no) street sermon
These niggas are determined
I'm cooler than most, but I got the shorter temper
And I'm cooler than foes that don't know how it goes
Let's take it back to the first side
When you was a new jack and jocking my new track
But you was wrong, didn't know about the big long
Head-strong, nicknamed Dav from off the school yard
With a teenage group I'm turning loots to tracks
Me and my niggas like
(These tracks are laced with bomb weed and tight lyrics)
You wanna know what the hoes used to do
When me and my crew came busting through
All sorts of blushings brew
(A neighbourhood find, a gift too swift, Miscellane is the crew)
Underground till my brown eyed balls turned blue
This is for the bitches and niggas that wanna front
I smoke on, I broke on till I spoke on
Miscellane packing shows like Farrakhan
Where is on another level with two niggas that's on the same plateau
Now that's three times your tightest flow
And three times ya tightest track, three times your fattest sack
Three times is clever (buck!)
As the world keeps turning
Chronic keeps burning
(This ain't no) street sermon
These niggas are determined
As the world keeps turning
Chronic keeps burning
(This ain't no) street sermon
These niggas are determined
Thou shalt rest in grief who lay buried in the belt
Barely included work, leaves bodies scarred and hurt
To art in hell, where the next man dwells
The place with stinking pussy and crack rock dwells