Testo Gun Music - Talib Kweli feat. Cocoa Brovaz
Testo della canzone Gun Music (Talib Kweli feat. Cocoa Brovaz), tratta dall'album Quality (Explicit Version)
Now, if I'm out of town my crew take care of ya
Bodies, the more the merrier
Point and spray the area
Niggas is quick to bury ya
Punk niggas feel inferior
Guns make us superior
Cats start actin' scarier
Situations get hairier
Yo, you know who killin' it?
Niggas sayin' they militant
The only blood in the street is when the government spillin' it
You could have a handgun or a cannon
And you still softer than Dan and
Without the knowledge and wisdom and understandin'
Of a.22 Derringer, a.38 long
A.44 Desert Eagle, a Glock 9
Time to protect the fam, I'ma cock mine
I make the streets run red like a stop sign
Stop lyin'
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Gun man music never take shot back
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Ghetto red hot, 'round the world you hear that
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Gun man youth never take shot back
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Ghetto red hot, 'round the world you hear that
In Jamaica, in Brooklyn, in Ethiopia
We go there and back
To all my real live soldier cats, where you at?
Dogs, no holdin' back
Throw some cats who go to straps and blow 'em back
You could be whoever, a Black Panther, a lap dancer
When respect is in question, folks comin' with the gat answer
Shoot at your feet like spider, make you a tap dancer
What am I? Amusin' to you? You better have that answer
Toys for guns, I got guns for toys
Silencers bring the heat without bringin' the noise
Bringin' the funk of dead bodies, go 'head, bring in your boys
You'll see the soul of Black folk like W.E.B. Du Bois
Israelis got tanks and Palestinians got rocks
Inmates got shanks and dirty cops, they got Glocks
We got tribes of Africa that listen to 'Pac
Fightin' with brothers who bump Biggie like they live on the block
Whoa
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Gun man music never take shot back
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Ghetto red hot, 'round the world you hear that
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Gun man youth never take shot back
Pa-poy poy, clack-clack-clack-clack-clack
Ghetto red hot, 'round the world you hear that
In Jamaica (Kingston), in Brooklyn (Flatbush), in Ethiopia
We go there and back
To all my real live soldier cats, where you at?
Dogs, no holdin' back
Throw some cats who go to straps and blow 'em back
These are the tools of the trade
That we use to get paid
When we cruise on escapades
In Escalades with guns ablaze
We been this way since the younger days
I'm saved from the hunger pains
Bang bang when the trouble came
Yeah, pioneers of gun sway
Supply you with them thangs
A little somethin' somethin'
Set fire to the game
My system be thumpin'
Pa-poy poy, the sounds of guns bustin'
Pa-poy poy, your heart just stop pumpin'
From.22 Derringers and.38 longs
And.44 Desert Eagles and Glock 9s
Time to protect the fam, I'ma cock mine
I make the streets run red like a stop sign
Stop lyin'
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Credits
Writer(s): Dorsey Wesley, Talib Kweli Greene, Tekomin B. Williams, Darrell A. Jr. Yates
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