Texty písní L.A. Guns Zealots

Zealots

Zobrazit překlad písně ›

Skrýt překlad písně ›

Zealots
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

I haunt MC's like Mephistophales
Bringin swords and Damacles
Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy
Abstract raps simple with a street format
Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax.
Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation.
I Feel like Rockwell, "Somebody's watching me"
I got no privacy whether on land or at sea.
And for you biting zealots, your raps are cacophonic
Hypocrit, critic, but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit.
It hurts don't it, the refugees come to your turf and take over
the earth.

See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes
That can only get down with my crew
And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes
We'll show you how the refugees do.

Behold, as my odes, manifold on your rhymes
Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time.
It's against the laws of Physics.
So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics
Rap rejects my tape deck, ejects projectile
Whether jew or gentile
I rank top percentile,
Many styles,
More powerful than gamma rays
My grammar pays,
Like Carlos Sanatana plays
Black Magic Woman
So while you fuming, I'm consuming
Mango juice under Polaris,
You're just embarrassed
Cause it's your "Last Tango in Paris"
And even after all my logic and my theory,
I add a muthafuckker so you ignint niggas hear me.
And you remember take notes,
As I sow my rap otas
And for you biting zealots, here's a quote.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

You can try but you can't divide the tri
These cats can't rap, Mr. Author I feel no Vibe
The magazine says the girl should have gone solo,
The guys should stop rapping, vanish like Menudo.
Took it to the heart, but every actor plays his part
As long as someone was listening, I knew it was a start,
For me to get a chance, grab my pen and revamp
Do a cameo while everybody do the dance.
Quick now, cause you runnin' out of lucka
Playin' Mr. Big, I'm gonna get you sucka.
While you munchin at your luncheon, I'll be planning your
assassination
Then hit you like the Dutchmen

I compress sound sets with my rap DBX
Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX
Bring terror to the shop of horror,
As she cries "Mi amor"
The phantom dies in the opera
And to the youngin's who carry gadgets
And kill 6 days a week then rest on the Sabbath.
Violence ain't necessary, unless you provoke me
Then get buried like the great Mussolini
And for you bitin' Zealots
Your rap styles are relics
No matter who you damage
Your still a false prophet.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa


Zealots
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

I haunt MC's like Mephistophales
Bringin swords and Damacles
Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy
Abstract raps simple with a street format
Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax.
Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation.
I Feel like Rockwell, "Somebody's watching me"
I got no privacy whether on land or at sea.
And for you biting zealots, your raps are cacophonic
Hypocrit, critic, but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit.
It hurts don't it, the refugees come to your turf and take over
the earth.

See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes
That can only get down with my crew
And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes
We'll show you how the refugees do.

Behold, as my odes, manifold on your rhymes
Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time.
It's against the laws of Physics.
So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics
Rap rejects my tape deck, ejects projectile
Whether jew or gentile
I rank top percentile,
Many styles,
More powerful than gamma rays
My grammar pays,
Like Carlos Sanatana plays
Black Magic Woman
So while you fuming, I'm consuming
Mango juice under Polaris,
You're just embarrassed
Cause it's your "Last Tango in Paris"
And even after all my logic and my theory,
I add a muthafuckker so you ignint niggas hear me.
And you remember take notes,
As I sow my rap otas
And for you biting zealots, here's a quote.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

You can try but you can't divide the tri
These cats can't rap, Mr. Author I feel no Vibe
The magazine says the girl should have gone solo,
The guys should stop rapping, vanish like Menudo.
Took it to the heart, but every actor plays his part
As long as someone was listening, I knew it was a start,
For me to get a chance, grab my pen and revamp
Do a cameo while everybody do the dance.
Quick now, cause you runnin' out of lucka
Playin' Mr. Big, I'm gonna get you sucka.
While you munchin at your luncheon, I'll be planning your
assassination
Then hit you like the Dutchmen

I compress sound sets with my rap DBX
Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX
Bring terror to the shop of horror,
As she cries "Mi amor"
The phantom dies in the opera
And to the youngin's who carry gadgets
And kill 6 days a week then rest on the Sabbath.
Violence ain't necessary, unless you provoke me
Then get buried like the great Mussolini
And for you bitin' Zealots
Your rap styles are relics
No matter who you damage
Your still a false prophet.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa



Zealots
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

I haunt MC's like Mephistophales
Bringin swords and Damacles
Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy
Abstract raps simple with a street format
Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax.
Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation.
I Feel like Rockwell, "Somebody's watching me"
I got no privacy whether on land or at sea.
And for you biting zealots, your raps are cacophonic
Hypocrit, critic, but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit.
It hurts don't it, the refugees come to your turf and take over
the earth.

See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes
That can only get down with my crew
And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes
We'll show you how the refugees do.

Behold, as my odes, manifold on your rhymes
Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time.
It's against the laws of Physics.
So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics
Rap rejects my tape deck, ejects projectile
Whether jew or gentile
I rank top percentile,
Many styles,
More powerful than gamma rays
My grammar pays,
Like Carlos Sanatana plays
Black Magic Woman
So while you fuming, I'm consuming
Mango juice under Polaris,
You're just embarrassed
Cause it's your "Last Tango in Paris"
And even after all my logic and my theory,
I add a muthafuckker so you ignint niggas hear me.
And you remember take notes,
As I sow my rap otas
And for you biting zealots, here's a quote.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

You can try but you can't divide the tri
These cats can't rap, Mr. Author I feel no Vibe
The magazine says the girl should have gone solo,
The guys should stop rapping, vanish like Menudo.
Took it to the heart, but every actor plays his part
As long as someone was listening, I knew it was a start,
For me to get a chance, grab my pen and revamp
Do a cameo while everybody do the dance.
Quick now, cause you runnin' out of lucka
Playin' Mr. Big, I'm gonna get you sucka.
While you munchin at your luncheon, I'll be planning your
assassination
Then hit you like the Dutchmen

I compress sound sets with my rap DBX
Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX
Bring terror to the shop of horror,
As she cries "Mi amor"
The phantom dies in the opera
And to the youngin's who carry gadgets
And kill 6 days a week then rest on the Sabbath.
Violence ain't necessary, unless you provoke me
Then get buried like the great Mussolini
And for you bitin' Zealots
Your rap styles are relics
No matter who you damage
Your still a false prophet.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa



Zealots
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

I haunt MC's like Mephistophales
Bringin swords and Damacles
Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy
Abstract raps simple with a street format
Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax.
Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation.
I Feel like Rockwell, "Somebody's watching me"
I got no privacy whether on land or at sea.
And for you biting zealots, your raps are cacophonic
Hypocrit, critic, but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit.
It hurts don't it, the refugees come to your turf and take over
the earth.

See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes
That can only get down with my crew
And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes
We'll show you how the refugees do.

Behold, as my odes, manifold on your rhymes
Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time.
It's against the laws of Physics.
So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics
Rap rejects my tape deck, ejects projectile
Whether jew or gentile
I rank top percentile,
Many styles,
More powerful than gamma rays
My grammar pays,
Like Carlos Sanatana plays
Black Magic Woman
So while you fuming, I'm consuming
Mango juice under Polaris,
You're just embarrassed
Cause it's your "Last Tango in Paris"
And even after all my logic and my theory,
I add a muthafuckker so you ignint niggas hear me.
And you remember take notes,
As I sow my rap otas
And for you biting zealots, here's a quote.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

You can try but you can't divide the tri
These cats can't rap, Mr. Author I feel no Vibe
The magazine says the girl should have gone solo,
The guys should stop rapping, vanish like Menudo.
Took it to the heart, but every actor plays his part
As long as someone was listening, I knew it was a start,
For me to get a chance, grab my pen and revamp
Do a cameo while everybody do the dance.
Quick now, cause you runnin' out of lucka
Playin' Mr. Big, I'm gonna get you sucka.
While you munchin at your luncheon, I'll be planning your
assassination
Then hit you like the Dutchmen

I compress sound sets with my rap DBX
Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX
Bring terror to the shop of horror,
As she cries "Mi amor"
The phantom dies in the opera
And to the youngin's who carry gadgets
And kill 6 days a week then rest on the Sabbath.
Violence ain't necessary, unless you provoke me
Then get buried like the great Mussolini
And for you bitin' Zealots
Your rap styles are relics
No matter who you damage
Your still a false prophet.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa


Zealots
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

I haunt MC's like Mephistophales
Bringin swords and Damacles
Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy
Abstract raps simple with a street format
Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax.
Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation.
I Feel like Rockwell, "Somebody's watching me"
I got no privacy whether on land or at sea.
And for you biting zealots, your raps are cacophonic
Hypocrit, critic, but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit.
It hurts don't it, the refugees come to your turf and take over
the earth.

See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes
That can only get down with my crew
And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes
We'll show you how the refugees do.

Behold, as my odes, manifold on your rhymes
Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time.
It's against the laws of Physics.
So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics
Rap rejects my tape deck, ejects projectile
Whether jew or gentile
I rank top percentile,
Many styles,
More powerful than gamma rays
My grammar pays,
Like Carlos Sanatana plays
Black Magic Woman
So while you fuming, I'm consuming
Mango juice under Polaris,
You're just embarrassed
Cause it's your "Last Tango in Paris"
And even after all my logic and my theory,
I add a muthafuckker so you ignint niggas hear me.
And you remember take notes,
As I sow my rap otas
And for you biting zealots, here's a quote.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa

You can try but you can't divide the tri
These cats can't rap, Mr. Author I feel no Vibe
The magazine says the girl should have gone solo,
The guys should stop rapping, vanish like Menudo.
Took it to the heart, but every actor plays his part
As long as someone was listening, I knew it was a start,
For me to get a chance, grab my pen and revamp
Do a cameo while everybody do the dance.
Quick now, cause you runnin' out of lucka
Playin' Mr. Big, I'm gonna get you sucka.
While you munchin at your luncheon, I'll be planning your
assassination
Then hit you like the Dutchmen

I compress sound sets with my rap DBX
Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX
Bring terror to the shop of horror,
As she cries "Mi amor"
The phantom dies in the opera
And to the youngin's who carry gadgets
And kill 6 days a week then rest on the Sabbath.
Violence ain't necessary, unless you provoke me
Then get buried like the great Mussolini
And for you bitin' Zealots
Your rap styles are relics
No matter who you damage
Your still a false prophet.

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa
The Beast
Warn the town the beast is loose,
Word 'em up y'all
C'mon

Conflicts with night sticks
Illegal sales districts,
Hand-picked lunatics, keep poli-TRICK-cians rich
Heretics push narcotics amidst its risks and frisks,
Cool cliques throw bricks but seldom hit targets
Private-DIC sell hits, like porno-flicks do chicks.
The 666 cut W.I.C. like Newt Gingrich SUCKS DICK

Meanwhile the government brings Star Wars from glocks to
glockers
C.O.P. has an APB out on Chewbacca
Mista Mayor, can I say something in yo honor
Yesterday in Central Park they got the Jogger
Okay, okay.
Let's get the confusion straight in ghetto Gotham
The man behind the mask you thought was Batman is Bill Clinton.
Who soon retire, the roof is on fire
Connie Chung brung the bomb as it comes from Oklahoma
Things are getting serious, Kuumbaya,
On a mountain satan offered me, Manhattan help me Jah Jah

You can't search me without probable cause
Or that proper ammunition they call reasonable suspicion
Listen I bring friction to your whole jurisdiction
You planted seeds in my seat when I wasn't lookin.
Now you ask me for my license/registration
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my name
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my occupation
Well I'm an MC, I'm down with the Fugees
Mother Mary caught a flashback like Rodney now the cops got
Lolly.

The subconscious psychology that you use against me,
If I lose control will send me to the penetentiary
Such as Alcatraz, or shot up like al Hajj Malik Shabazz
High class get bypassed while my ass gets harrassed.
And the fuzz treat bruh's like they manhood never was,
And if you too powerful, you get bugged like Peter Tosh and
Marley
was.
And my word does nothing against the feds,
So my eyes stay red as I chase crazy bald heads, WORD UP.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah
Word 'em up y'all

The chase is on I feel like the bad guy
Fifth gear 125 like New Jersey drive
Looked in my rear view mirror
Police was getting closer
Heard a roar in the sky,
Looked up and saw the Blue Thunder.
My inner conscious says throw your handkerchief and surrender,
BUT TO WHO???
The star spangled banner ooh.
Say can't you see cops more crooked than we
By the dawn's early night robbin' niggas for kis.
Easy low key crooked military
Pay taxes out my ass but they still harrass me.

The streets of corruption got me bustin and cussin' in the
concrete
jungle
Thoughts being dribbled like that tall kid Mutumbo
Handled by Hannibal
Soon I'm gonna be a fugitive like Dr. Kimble.

Hey yo should I slow down?

Nah kid go faster,
Just cause they got a badge, they could still be impostors.
Probable cause, got flaws like dirty draws
Meet me at the corner store so we can start the street wars.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah,
Word 'em up y'all




The Beast
Warn the town the beast is loose,
Word 'em up y'all
C'mon

Conflicts with night sticks
Illegal sales districts,
Hand-picked lunatics, keep poli-TRICK-cians rich
Heretics push narcotics amidst its risks and frisks,
Cool cliques throw bricks but seldom hit targets
Private-DIC sell hits, like porno-flicks do chicks.
The 666 cut W.I.C. like Newt Gingrich SUCKS DICK

Meanwhile the government brings Star Wars from glocks to
glockers
C.O.P. has an APB out on Chewbacca
Mista Mayor, can I say something in yo honor
Yesterday in Central Park they got the Jogger
Okay, okay.
Let's get the confusion straight in ghetto Gotham
The man behind the mask you thought was Batman is Bill Clinton.
Who soon retire, the roof is on fire
Connie Chung brung the bomb as it comes from Oklahoma
Things are getting serious, Kuumbaya,
On a mountain satan offered me, Manhattan help me Jah Jah

You can't search me without probable cause
Or that proper ammunition they call reasonable suspicion
Listen I bring friction to your whole jurisdiction
You planted seeds in my seat when I wasn't lookin.
Now you ask me for my license/registration
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my name
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my occupation
Well I'm an MC, I'm down with the Fugees
Mother Mary caught a flashback like Rodney now the cops got
Lolly.

The subconscious psychology that you use against me,
If I lose control will send me to the penetentiary
Such as Alcatraz, or shot up like al Hajj Malik Shabazz
High class get bypassed while my ass gets harrassed.
And the fuzz treat bruh's like they manhood never was,
And if you too powerful, you get bugged like Peter Tosh and
Marley
was.
And my word does nothing against the feds,
So my eyes stay red as I chase crazy bald heads, WORD UP.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah
Word 'em up y'all

The chase is on I feel like the bad guy
Fifth gear 125 like New Jersey drive
Looked in my rear view mirror
Police was getting closer
Heard a roar in the sky,
Looked up and saw the Blue Thunder.
My inner conscious says throw your handkerchief and surrender,
BUT TO WHO???
The star spangled banner ooh.
Say can't you see cops more crooked than we
By the dawn's early night robbin' niggas for kis.
Easy low key crooked military
Pay taxes out my ass but they still harrass me.

The streets of corruption got me bustin and cussin' in the
concrete
jungle
Thoughts being dribbled like that tall kid Mutumbo
Handled by Hannibal
Soon I'm gonna be a fugitive like Dr. Kimble.

Hey yo should I slow down?

Nah kid go faster,
Just cause they got a badge, they could still be impostors.
Probable cause, got flaws like dirty draws
Meet me at the corner store so we can start the street wars.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah,
Word 'em up y'all



The Beast
Warn the town the beast is loose,
Word 'em up y'all
C'mon

Conflicts with night sticks
Illegal sales districts,
Hand-picked lunatics, keep poli-TRICK-cians rich
Heretics push narcotics amidst its risks and frisks,
Cool cliques throw bricks but seldom hit targets
Private-DIC sell hits, like porno-flicks do chicks.
The 666 cut W.I.C. like Newt Gingrich SUCKS DICK

Meanwhile the government brings Star Wars from glocks to
glockers
C.O.P. has an APB out on Chewbacca
Mista Mayor, can I say something in yo honor
Yesterday in Central Park they got the Jogger
Okay, okay.
Let's get the confusion straight in ghetto Gotham
The man behind the mask you thought was Batman is Bill Clinton.
Who soon retire, the roof is on fire
Connie Chung brung the bomb as it comes from Oklahoma
Things are getting serious, Kuumbaya,
On a mountain satan offered me, Manhattan help me Jah Jah

You can't search me without probable cause
Or that proper ammunition they call reasonable suspicion
Listen I bring friction to your whole jurisdiction
You planted seeds in my seat when I wasn't lookin.
Now you ask me for my license/registration
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my name
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my occupation
Well I'm an MC, I'm down with the Fugees
Mother Mary caught a flashback like Rodney now the cops got
Lolly.

The subconscious psychology that you use against me,
If I lose control will send me to the penetentiary
Such as Alcatraz, or shot up like al Hajj Malik Shabazz
High class get bypassed while my ass gets harrassed.
And the fuzz treat bruh's like they manhood never was,
And if you too powerful, you get bugged like Peter Tosh and
Marley
was.
And my word does nothing against the feds,
So my eyes stay red as I chase crazy bald heads, WORD UP.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah
Word 'em up y'all

The chase is on I feel like the bad guy
Fifth gear 125 like New Jersey drive
Looked in my rear view mirror
Police was getting closer
Heard a roar in the sky,
Looked up and saw the Blue Thunder.
My inner conscious says throw your handkerchief and surrender,
BUT TO WHO???
The star spangled banner ooh.
Say can't you see cops more crooked than we
By the dawn's early night robbin' niggas for kis.
Easy low key crooked military
Pay taxes out my ass but they still harrass me.

The streets of corruption got me bustin and cussin' in the
concrete
jungle
Thoughts being dribbled like that tall kid Mutumbo
Handled by Hannibal
Soon I'm gonna be a fugitive like Dr. Kimble.

Hey yo should I slow down?

Nah kid go faster,
Just cause they got a badge, they could still be impostors.
Probable cause, got flaws like dirty draws
Meet me at the corner store so we can start the street wars.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah,
Word 'em up y'all



The Beast
Warn the town the beast is loose,
Word 'em up y'all
C'mon

Conflicts with night sticks
Illegal sales districts,
Hand-picked lunatics, keep poli-TRICK-cians rich
Heretics push narcotics amidst its risks and frisks,
Cool cliques throw bricks but seldom hit targets
Private-DIC sell hits, like porno-flicks do chicks.
The 666 cut W.I.C. like Newt Gingrich SUCKS DICK

Meanwhile the government brings Star Wars from glocks to
glockers
C.O.P. has an APB out on Chewbacca
Mista Mayor, can I say something in yo honor
Yesterday in Central Park they got the Jogger
Okay, okay.
Let's get the confusion straight in ghetto Gotham
The man behind the mask you thought was Batman is Bill Clinton.
Who soon retire, the roof is on fire
Connie Chung brung the bomb as it comes from Oklahoma
Things are getting serious, Kuumbaya,
On a mountain satan offered me, Manhattan help me Jah Jah

You can't search me without probable cause
Or that proper ammunition they call reasonable suspicion
Listen I bring friction to your whole jurisdiction
You planted seeds in my seat when I wasn't lookin.
Now you ask me for my license/registration
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my name
"WHAT THE FUCK" is my occupation
Well I'm an MC, I'm down with the Fugees
Mother Mary caught a flashback like Rodney now the cops got
Lolly.

The subconscious psychology that you use against me,
If I lose control will send me to the penetentiary
Such as Alcatraz, or shot up like al Hajj Malik Shabazz
High class get bypassed while my ass gets harrassed.
And the fuzz treat bruh's like they manhood never was,
And if you too powerful, you get bugged like Peter Tosh and
Marley
was.
And my word does nothing against the feds,
So my eyes stay red as I chase crazy bald heads, WORD UP.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah
Word 'em up y'all

The chase is on I feel like the bad guy
Fifth gear 125 like New Jersey drive
Looked in my rear view mirror
Police was getting closer
Heard a roar in the sky,
Looked up and saw the Blue Thunder.
My inner conscious says throw your handkerchief and surrender,
BUT TO WHO???
The star spangled banner ooh.
Say can't you see cops more crooked than we
By the dawn's early night robbin' niggas for kis.
Easy low key crooked military
Pay taxes out my ass but they still harrass me.

The streets of corruption got me bustin and cussin' in the
concrete
jungle
Thoughts being dribbled like that tall kid Mutumbo
Handled by Hannibal
Soon I'm gonna be a fugitive like Dr. Kimble.

Hey yo should I slow down?

Nah kid go faster,
Just cause they got a badge, they could still be impostors.
Probable cause, got flaws like dirty draws
Meet me at the corner store so we can start the street wars.

Warn the town the beast is loose, Ah - ah, Ah - ah,
Word 'em up y'all
Interpreti podle abecedy Písničky podle abecedy