Dead Prez - The Pistol - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[Intro] Yeah, for real. Long time, poor people are suffer. And check this: long time, we fighting. Even pull out gun for the food, see [Hook 1: stic.man] We ain't trying to hear shit but what? (Cash money) The whole world operating off of (Cash money) To all my niggas with a whole lot of (Cash money) Watch yo' back money [Verse 1: stic.man] You couldn't never understand how my mind tick I'm on some old school crime shit When niggas sold two's to keep the dimes lit Ain't no rules when these iron shots are stoned, dun This heat burn through your flesh, straight to the bones I reach for the Buddha, cess, and zone I probably have a future of stress, stay depressed and be alone But as far as the present time, it’s on I represent mine ‘til I return to the essence and I'm dead and gone Nobody wanna be broke—and you neither Put me on the corner, watch me catch a quick case of cream fever If you be popping shit, my niggas won't believe ya Probably punch you in the face and take ya wallet when we see ya But son, it gets deeper I'm running with a clique that's being hunted by the grim reaper To all my peoples in the man keeper, let your situation be a teacher Ain't nothing like a education When I was locked down, I learned about patience and dedication And not to say shit, unless you need a motherfucking face lift And as a youth, I was a outcast Running ‘round with pellet guns playing war, but now it's all about cash [Hook 2: stic.man] I'm caught up, caught up in a mix of shit And I ain't trying to hear shit, son, my crew got cash to get Blast you with the pistol If I have to, in my mind it’s all about cash in the fistful I'm caught up in a mix of shit And I ain't trying to hear shit son my crew got cash to get Splash you with the pistol If I have to, in my mind its all about cash in the fistful [Verse 2: M-1] Up late night and upset, and fed up Niggas coming up, wet, I'm dead up Fuck tryin’ to keep your head up And when it go down, word bond, we gotta dead up Too many locked down upstate, son, its a set up My life has sped up many years—I'm straight up Plenty beers for who ain't here and those who ate up Test and get sprayed up in the club We couldn't run it so we take the blade up in the booth Since we couldn't shoot We heat it up, losing the shirt, showing the bare chest I'm blessed, puffin’ the skunk make me care less The best that you can do is duck my fucking crew If the slugs don't get ya, Lord J'll jig ya Acting artificial get you burnt by the pistol Before it’s done, even my guns'll turn to missiles Don't have to blow the whistle on you ‘Cause everybody knows you gotta watch yourself around borderline psychos Who know my people gotta hold a mint or they ain't worth a cent How can you represent if you can't pay the rent And leave a dent in my life time. I'm caught up in trife crime In fights you never know what you might find We stand firm meanwhile ‘cause niggas that seem wild Be bucking blanks. If they was men they wouldn't fuck with pranks I leave them niggas alone and stay home Until it cool down as they remember how my tool sound [Hook 2: stic.man] I'm caught up, caught up in a mix of shit And I ain't trying to hear shit, son, my crew got cash to get Blast you with the pistol If I have to, in my mind it’s all about cash in the fistful I'm caught up in a mix of shit And I ain't trying to hear shit son my crew got cash to get Splash you with the pistol If I have to, in my mind its all about cash in the fistful [Hook: stic.man] We ain't trying to hear shit but what? (Cash money) The whole world operating off of (Cash money) To all my niggas with a whole lot of (Cash money) Watch yo' back money [Interlude: stic.man] Yeah, we up on what we dealing with. We ain't no criminals. We got the right to have gats. As long as the army, navy, air force, marines got gats, we gon' hold heat, know’m saying? ‘Cause our army gotta represent for us. Word up. Aiyyo, Maintain (Yeah). Set that shit, son [Verse 3: Maintain] Forever keeping my shit cocked for drama Stainless steel, shit is for real The way these rats is known to squeal, making sour deals Thugs up in the mix to these drugs, caught up in the humble Bricks and paper by the bundle how the Bronx rumble [Plex spray?], devils get deaded, never regret it, only known to set it Still in existence, obviously you jetted Speak the desert, I see the pyramid and eagle Back of the dollar bill, ill deceitful, we consider lethal God falling, niggas be pouring, guzzling alcoholics Two drinks, too many's like whitey infiltrating your fortress Shit is on, we 'bout to form, best prepare for the storm Y’all funny niggas quick to ring the alarm Bomb fell, now a nation is gel We had to dwell for four hundred or more The Lord had the righteous living poor Resurrecting the true and living back the power Devils getting devoured, niggas heard the God holla
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