Bush Killa (Hellraiser Mix)

"I understand that time is running out.." [Paris] Now who is able to make war with the beast? It starts with P Trumpets sound when I push the program And set my sight on a serpent man Swinging the sword of the righteous Make devils drop and they just can't spite this Genocide and the minds of men make Brothers like me fill up with hate I smell a skunk in the air Cause your program still ain't fair So who you wanna blame for "The Hate That Hate Made?" When P let off and pigs get sprayed Y'all wanna kill off the black man But I know your master plan So we'll see who stop the black guerrilla.. P-Dog the Bush Killa {*scratching*} Yeah, it's P-Dog the Bush Killa [Paris] Yeah, tolerance is gettin thinner Cause Iraq never called me "nigger" So what I wanna go off and fight a war for? You best believe I got your draft card! So bad to hate somebody else But much worse to hate yourself Victim to the mentacide of the devil why Must black folk be made to die? Keepin 'em on and on.. keepin ya on and on Now my brother down South said, "Fuck the Police" I'm sayin, "No Justice, No Peace" So I just stick 'em like that Cause everybody want to get the black, huh But we'll see who'll stop the black guerilla.. P-Dog the Bush Killa "He's been shot!" "The president is dead" Yeah, it's P-Dog the Bush Killa {*scratching*} "Oh my God!" "That man shot the president" "Nobody moves, just stay where you are" "Just hold it right there.." [Paris] Yeah, so where's he at? I might wait For his motherfuckin ass on a rooftop next tour Buckin stone cause I'm known to play for keeps Lay low to the flow and keep it neat And send his ass home belly up Should've listened to the facts that the black's been tellin ya It's no suprise that a brother got wise Now rat-a-tat-tat, it's an eye for an eye I'm in it, got to die before we see The motherfuckers don't give a damn for you or me So wear a vest on your chest and the rest stand still For P-Dog the Bush Killa, yeah! {*breakdown*} [Paris] Now you know, that I ain't never been a slave to the bottle All I see on the tube is the punk black role model The passive girllike she-men That make and dictate the lives of black men And sometimes I wanna give up hope Cause all they wanna do is grow up and work for white folks Or be a pimp, drug dealer or sports star It ain't no wonder the blacks don't go far Now the trick is stay quick to bust shit Got to be equipped so the devil can't flip And be aware of the government plan to keep Young black folk walkin in our sleep Fuck the games I still feel the pain I still feel the shame cause ain't nuttin changed I CAIN'T fade peace when the war is all around You better run cause the lost are bein found Choose your team, square up and take sides But don't be punked or a skunk when the gat fire Cause I'm the first one to let the caps go No more vetoes of negroes Who run scared full of fear when the devil squawk Funk is on to the dome the Glock'll talk And be sure that a devil is peeled Make way for the motherfuckin Bush Killa, now! {*laughter*} "Things change, a majority of the people will decide where and when" "All males to the bail tomorrow mourning for the late great black man" "We are all going to respect the law, or pay the consequences" {*scratching: "Hey!"*} {"Get your punk devil ass hurt motherf.." -] Ice Cube} {*dogs barking*} "Let me draw a bead on his black ass and he's dead!" {*dogs barking*} "He's gonna make it." "Let the dogs go." "No I won't do it!" {*guitar solo for the next couple of minutes*} {*music eventually fades*}