Mistah F.A.B. - This Is What's Cool? - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[Hook] My city got more murders than yours My hood got more killers than you My block got more drug dealers than you And it’s the type of shit that niggas really think it’s cool! They’re telling on their cell, look at the Instagram pictures Posing with guns, rolling weed, blowing swishers Sipping hell of syrup, drinking hell of liquor And it’s the type of shit that niggas really think it’s cool! [Verse 1] We salute the drug dealers but look down on drug users When both are the problem, that’s no hope for the future We’re bragging incarceration, like that deserves congratulations We have welcome home parties, but neglect those that are graduating! We drink poison, smoke death, snore lethal, shoot evil Fabricate about our wealth, and willing to die for their people Fake love for fake thugs.. one should… And as soon as we lose a loved one we just add them to our swears like: “Swear on lil G, no! Swear on baby T But I swear these swears really don’t mean anything!” It’s an escape from the lies and the harsh realities And a constant reminder about the constant casualties See, we claim to be brothers, but we kill one another Can’t love that child when child don’t love that mother! Can’t love that son, when son don’t love that father Ain’t nobody listening, man, why should I even bother? [Hook] [Verse 2] I was watching world star the other day seen a two year old that smoke In my city the other day, a two year old got smoked! Black people praised the preacher like Roman Catholics praise the Pope Church house or crack house with chapel one gives you hope! Obama won again so now they are saying two terms But as long as we ear the two chains, no one really has concerns That’s no distant city, that’s my brother one fifty Just a mentality and the youth is all bad in my city! Hurts my heart to see the news, as the people we’re confused As a man loses wife, waiting in line for some shoes Like a hundred and fifty dollars is life valued like Twenty five to life for some… And it’s hard in the ghetto, man the light it’s not smooth But leave it after us, you will think this life’s cool like: Posing with guns, rolling weed, blowing swishers Sipping hell of syrup, drinking hell of liquor! [Hook] [Verse 3] They say… fell off, bring back the yellow bus I say OK, I’mma bring back promotion of the drugs The death and the violence, the bullets and the guns The misguided message, the waste of righteous tongue The fuck tomorrow attitude, the malice and the ruin Then what am I doing? Just wasting my influence! The care free, twenty three, young fly me I’m cool, thanks to my daughter, Liberty [Hook] My city got more murders than yours My hood got more killers than you My block got more drug dealers than you And it’s the type of shit that niggas really think it’s cool! They’re telling on their cell, look at the Instagram pictures Posing with guns, rolling weed, blowing swishers Sipping hell of syrup, drinking hell of liquor And it’s the type of shit that niggas really think it’s cool
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