Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Blackout’ by Adrian Younge. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of Adrian Younge or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Yo, Kane, let’s get ’em
I’m talking blackout
Putting [?], tapout
[?]
[?]
Yeah, relentless
Murderous intentions
The henchmen’s garments is all black
Caught up in my smells
Smell exotic [?] trees
Black love’s bullet’s will fly when the 9’s squeezed
[?]
Robbing the whole globe
Black polo, hooded, with Gucci wheels with a nice grip
So when the blood hit the floor, I won’t slip
Dynamic with my dial-up, [?]
Crack your cranium like crab does if you cross me
Raging bull [?] Mr. Kane is so raunchy
Death rose [?] through lethal injection
Execute him and chop up his body in sections
Clean cut butcher knives
X they’re eyes out
Nail ’em to a billboard
Let ’em dry out
Let me a show you a crime [?] blowing your minds out
If you ain’t ready [?] then sign out
Nickel plated 40’s are blowing your spine out
Old school Caddies [?], come take a line out
Stingin’ [?] for they’re jewels in they’re stash house
Snatch a [?] by his butterfly
Sing him a lullaby
Closed casket, make sure his mother cry
You [?] tunes are suicidal
And now we ain’t homies
The bullets are homicidal
Get ready for the [?], just call it my arrival
Bash him with a disco ball, it’s the 70’s
Drop a set of the Daily News so they remember these
[?], ruthless killers
Watch me thrill ya
Guarded killers, we won’t die
[?], me and cats is gonna fry
[?]
Wanna swim with the sharks
Be my guest, go take a dive
The name of the game is Blood Sport
You won’t make it out alive
I see what you trying for so give it up
We terrorize [?]
Kane and Ghost, lit it up