Killer Mike - That's Life - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[Intro] Hey, my name's Malik and Killer Mike's my dad If you don't like what he's sayin', so what That's life Told you last tape I'm a killer man I'm a rapper, what the fuck do I know Well I'm also a nigga that came off Martin Luther King, man Son of a dope lady And I went to fuckin' Morehouse nigga I accomplished something, I became something nigga That's who I am to criticize any nigga Oprah, Bill, Clinton, Cosby, anybody [Verse 1] The fat bitch singing show over, end opera Leader of the crack Rat Pack, I Sinatra They say I dissed Oprah I'm like so what I never get to jump up and down on a sofa (that's life) Now watch me as I Cruise like Tom through the slums Where the education's poor and the children growing dumb In the section of the city where saditty's don't come Where Mr. Cosby and Ms. Winfrey won't come Unless it's a hurricane then FEMA don't come Coming live from the city where the Dreamer came from Standing on the same corners that he stood upon I got violence in my waistband, death in my palm Ask 'em am I a bad guy, ya goddamn right I done seen how ya do a nigga when he doin' right The Dream died on a balcony, standin' at a hotel Now niggas whippin' coke gel and a O tale We desegregated - put black with the white No longer marching for rights, they sparking a pipe (that's life) Pipe dreams, crack fiends Cars look like ice cream Kids see the bling-bling and they want them nice things All cause of tennis shoes our kids drop out of schools They said be like Mike, so ball nigga (that's life) Now help me understand something If you a leader and you really mean something to your people Ain't you supposed to be in the community with your people? Ain't you supposed to be there? Like the only people I see in the communities Are rappers and ball players Where the fuck all y'all doctors? Where y'all bourgeoisie niggas at? All the kids got is us, Grind Time rap game [Verse 2] Read an old magazine, check out a new dress I be havin' conversations with Cornel West Killer Mike don't give a damn if it's me ya ain't likin' The last great debate I had was with Michael Eric Dyson Call me a dumb rapper Girl stop, pardon me You be hard pressed to find another rapper smart as me Maybe Jay-Z, 2Pac, C-U-B-E But Oprah'd rather put Superhead on TV Now whatcha white audience gon' think about we The same white audience that watch Bill O' Reilly I saw the smirk on they face when you came at Luda The same nice ladies that forgave Martha Stewart So I can be a crook Take money off the books Just as long as I'm liked by a rich man's wife? OK, hold up. I can't rap about doing crime But if I actually do crime, and do time I can come back out And have a TV show With an all white audience If I rob shareholders of millions? But if I rap about getting some money on the block It's a problem? Are you fuckin' retarded? I'm not even gonna tell you how stupid you are right now Cause you should already know, Grind Time Rap Game (that's life) [Verse 3] Niecey had a man, not a mouse or a mole When the pressure come knockin, I ain't runnin in a hole George Bush don't like blacks No shit, Sherlock And his daddy CIA had flooded the hood with rock And his momma said the women oughta feel at home Gettin' raped in the bathroom in the Superdome The comment Kanye made was damn near right But Bush hate poor people Be 'em black or white (that's life) Hell yeah I said it, cause Oprah won't say it And Bill won't say it, and they still won't say it If you really bout intelligence, you really know I'm right If you lookin' for some leadership, look for Killer Mike (that's life) Lookin' for a movement, it's Grind Time Rap Game Kids see us in the street and go bang bang bang They see me on the street and on the corners they hang Myspace Grind Time Online, join the gang [Outro] Aye man, all you adults out there, all you supposed grown people Would you please stop lying to young people Could we please have a moment of fuckin' honesty? You know honesty? The shit you ask young people to be with you when you ask are they havin' sex or doin' drugs? Could we please stop fuckin' lying Like you preachers out there who spread the myth That young boys who sag their pants picked that shit up in prison to let niggas know they homosexuals You in your faggot, twisted mind know that ain't true You sick fuck, for even sayin' that shit We wear our fuckin' pants big Because our mothers were too poor to buy our size So they had to buy two or three sizes up Call it what it is nigga: poverty It's fuckin' poverty You know poverty, the opposite of the big fuckin' cars and planes you drive Mutherfucka To all you rich bourgeoisie niggas out there Stop ignoring your cousins in the ghetto Because they're there Stop looking down on 'em Stop using crack addicts and Mexicans As cheap labor to build your fuckin' houses And then shitting on poor black people and Latins You pieces of shit That's for you rich motherfuckas: black and white In the mean time us rappers Us lowly b-boys and us motherfuckin' athletes'll be here in the ghetto Servicing the motherfuckin' children We are the new Robin Hoods We are the Pied Pipers We will lead the kids into a better life than the motherfuckin' lies you doing Kids grow up, be doctors, be lawyers Just don't be liars and connivers like the ones we got now Young men, grow up Be clergymen, be a preacher Just don't be a motherfuckin' greedy hog like most of the ones we got now Grind Time Rap Game Bang, bang, bang If you don't like what I'm sayin'....that's life
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