Sips of ripple wine (no stemware) Lyrics - R.A.P. Ferreira — Paroles de Chansons


I’m just playin’, don’t do that, he’s—
Dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, bup-bup, bup-bup, bup-bup
Bum, ba-bum, ba-bum, yeah

[Verse 1]
Sippin’ beaujolipple
Laughin’ as the bougie try to scribe a riddle
Feelin’ tickle of mutiny
Rappin’ like it’s new to me
Held my own in cyphers where you wouldn’t step foot
Beats is knockin’, but I wouldn’t step foot
Hirsute, the most trivial pursuit
Giggling in spurts and fits
Playing trumpet ’til it hurt the lips
Trying to make grandiose announcements
From peaks of mountains

You must level up, you must level up
You must level up, you must level up, you must level up
Level up, up, up, up
Leveling up, bum-ba-dum, uh
Uh, up-up, uh
Up, up, up
Lеvel up, level up, lеvel up, mm
Level up, level up, level up

[Interlude: Ted Joans]
Feels like it, this first poem I’d like to read, is a poem
Always take the glasses off for the photographers so I won’t look like the rest of ’em
This first poem I’d like to read
Is a poem dedicated to all the poets, all over the world
She was m—

[Verse 2]
We came running, innocent
Laughing blobs of blood and faith
Through this mother father world, where laughter seems out of place
We learned to cry, please, they pronounce you human being
The secret jazz blew a sigh, I grew a third eye
And a fourth and fifth, never knowing the price of pork or cigs
Some familiar sound shouts, “Wait!”
Some are evil, some will hate
We got busy, stayed hidden, eloped
Life in the warzone, super atomic color cinemascope
Charitable wallets, screams are stereophonic
Marcellus Wallace with them pipe hittin’ niggas gettin’ ready to
Go medieval, hopscotching grassy knolls, like Knievel
Rifle at the easel, my specialty is retrievals
From the back of the mind, believing in the swinging
The sound of my skull unhinging
They were too busy dying on living ground to hear a simple sound
Too busy earning medals for killing children
In super atomic color cinemascope
Listening to jazz through all these important things going on
My soul demanding a cave of its own
My soul demanding a cave of its own
Someone who I am is no one
Something I have done is nothing
Someplace I have been is nowhere, I am not me
What are the answers I must find questions for?
All these strange cities I must find streets for
Thank God for the ruby yacht poet gang
Thank God for the ruby yacht poet gang
Thank God for the ruby yacht poet gang
She was m— (Most mesmerizing)
She was— I know, I know

[Outro: Ted Joans]
If you should see a man walking down a crowded street
Talking aloud to himself
Don’t run in the opposite direction
But run towards him, for he is a poet
You have nothing to fear from the poet