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8mm - Ivan Ives



     
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8mm Lyrics


You'll never see me posing for a photo
The flashbulbs got me washed out
Digital stills, everyone looking like a criminal
Nose a little crooked
I hate my voice on playback
But the kids in this city stay strapped
Like every moment is a moment
Hold it up with itchy trigger digits
Gunslinger, one finger
No consequence to figure with it
You shoot enough odds are, you're going to catch a kill
And ammo is unlimited
Now that no one’s copping film
In the blue light of the bar
We were looking like some movie stars
Beautiful and out of place
Hair falling around your face
The memories weak, it carries weight like a dream

Any imperfections more like variations on a theme
My mind's eye’s film is special ordered out of state
Only shoot what you need
No edits, just the tape
The projector flashes like a whole life
Reel to reel
Watch it wind
The only way to match the pictures of my mind
8 mm no sound
And if you didn't know then, you know now
And I was like "Hey, no rush"
The sun’s hiding like a thief on the Atlantic
The early shifters and the late drinkers are up
Shuffling down Bushwick like they're tired and out of practice
Headline screams "Criminal"
Papers read like a rap sheet
In the big brick cage there's plenty of shade for a black sheep
Hands together
Waiting for something sacred
Like pigeons ain't much for a mascot, but fuck it, we’ll take it
Sleeping on a bench Kentucky bourbon on his breath
Til the voices in his head are staying quiet
This ain't no midnight train to Georgia
No Johnny Cash
No Porter
But tonight the thunder on the tracks is silent
Paint the scene in grainy mariachi
Heroin and silver
Nobody stays places like this
They only pass through
And the light out the tunnel
Makes everything looks like it’s washed away
And everything looks brand new
8 mm no sound
And if you didn't know then, you know now
---
Lyrics submitted by Bjarni.

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

"Although Ivan Ives got roots in mother Russia, don't expect this dude to mostly spit raps about the former hammer and sickle country. Oh and don't take this guy lightly either. He's got rhymes that hammer and sickle the ears and then stamps a red star on the brain. "The White Russian, ain't a bitch drink, tight percussion, plus I make these kids think," spits the LA native on his track with Wu member Cappadonna on "Honor." Much like fellow Russian and current Pride Fighting champ Fedor Emelianenko, Ives' got the all lyrical skill and ability to become a microphone champion."

Read more about Ivan Ives on Last.fm.


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Ivan Ives