Linkin Park - Fuse lyrics
Linkin Park [Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, Rob Bourdo] Agoura Hills, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Linkin Park - Fuse lyrics]
Of course you know what a fuse is it's a
Long piece of cord impregnated
With gun powder when you strike a match and
Light it, it burns, fitfully
Spiraling to it's end
At which, there is a little surprise
From the planet of Krypton
Ensurin' super-emcees you'll be ripped on
(Ripped on) you fell off
And it's my lyric sheet you slipped on
Get gone, spit on mics made in Hong Kong
Rock on, sing songs more mightier than King
Kong or Donkey Kong
You think you want me or want this?
You want some? Hold your
Reputation for ransom
With these here, handsomely crafted tactics
To break a snake emcee
Like a cheap prophylactic
Galactic, spaced-out gabbin' grabs attention
Got heads noddin' like a Pez Candy convention
Briar patch raps gash tracks in sections
Kid says this and need witness protection
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
Yo, dig this, dig this
Yo, it's the junkyard
Crooked letter C-Ien-tific duck us
The ruckus I bring stings your eardrum
Hear one line I let loose, find me fearsome
Opposin' troops on my home
Front shall be gone testin' the eight
Hundred-eighteenth battalion
Shall I go on? Crews run like rebels
Enola Gay rhymes kick the notch
Up a level in intensity
Send back attacks that you sent to me
Blow up your spot with grenades
That were meant for me
Empty three verses on thirty-three emcees
Swiss cheese your gear
Puttin' shrapnel in the breeze
Bleed emcees of enemy companies with my
Hand full of lyrics, talking ‘bout
"You want these?"
Please, don’t even speak the name of Ken
On some Go Go gadget mic shit
Put it down like pens for
My friends and my fam better Dodge
Or I’ll Ram this mic shaft through
The back of an emcee’s hand
With the strength of He-Man
A Cringer don’t want that
Close bodies fill fields in
Hand-to hand combat
Battle cats in cypher sessions of speech
Warfare of words flashin' that cordless heat
Compete for an edge, lyrical shots get lit
Don’t question my intention when
Your bucket gets kicked
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Teflon metallic, syllaballic attacks)
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Haunt emcees with these lyrical back smacks)
Should've told you so
(Why?) Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so (Try)
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Teflon metallic, syllaballic attacks)
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Haunt emcees with these lyrical back smacks)
Long piece of cord impregnated
With gun powder when you strike a match and
Light it, it burns, fitfully
Spiraling to it's end
At which, there is a little surprise
From the planet of Krypton
Ensurin' super-emcees you'll be ripped on
(Ripped on) you fell off
And it's my lyric sheet you slipped on
Get gone, spit on mics made in Hong Kong
Rock on, sing songs more mightier than King
Kong or Donkey Kong
You think you want me or want this?
You want some? Hold your
Reputation for ransom
With these here, handsomely crafted tactics
To break a snake emcee
Like a cheap prophylactic
Galactic, spaced-out gabbin' grabs attention
Got heads noddin' like a Pez Candy convention
Briar patch raps gash tracks in sections
Kid says this and need witness protection
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
Yo, dig this, dig this
Yo, it's the junkyard
Crooked letter C-Ien-tific duck us
The ruckus I bring stings your eardrum
Hear one line I let loose, find me fearsome
Opposin' troops on my home
Front shall be gone testin' the eight
Hundred-eighteenth battalion
Shall I go on? Crews run like rebels
Enola Gay rhymes kick the notch
Up a level in intensity
Send back attacks that you sent to me
Blow up your spot with grenades
That were meant for me
Empty three verses on thirty-three emcees
Swiss cheese your gear
Puttin' shrapnel in the breeze
Bleed emcees of enemy companies with my
Hand full of lyrics, talking ‘bout
"You want these?"
Please, don’t even speak the name of Ken
On some Go Go gadget mic shit
Put it down like pens for
My friends and my fam better Dodge
Or I’ll Ram this mic shaft through
The back of an emcee’s hand
With the strength of He-Man
A Cringer don’t want that
Close bodies fill fields in
Hand-to hand combat
Battle cats in cypher sessions of speech
Warfare of words flashin' that cordless heat
Compete for an edge, lyrical shots get lit
Don’t question my intention when
Your bucket gets kicked
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Teflon metallic, syllaballic attacks)
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Haunt emcees with these lyrical back smacks)
Should've told you so
(Why?) Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so (Try)
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Why wait? I shouldn't have told you so
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Teflon metallic, syllaballic attacks)
Tryna say what I can't be sayin'
I'll be here
(Haunt emcees with these lyrical back smacks)