Testo Sharp Shooters - dead prez feat. Talib Kweli
Testo della canzone Sharp Shooters (dead prez feat. Talib Kweli), tratta dall'album Lyricist Lounge, Vol. 2
Everything is politics
Ache
Kweli
People Army
You know it
The white man came to Africa with rifles and Bibles
Heard the name, started changing the titles
Now instead of Shaka, call me Nat Turner with the burner
Freedom fighter for this revolution, fuck a wage earner
See I be what John Wilkes Booth was to Lincoln, blam
Sirhan Sirhan, peeping through the curtains
With my eyes on a Kennedy, dead prez politic
Know your enemy, keep your toast close
Because political power come from the barrel of it
We in a war, nigga, leave it or love it
Since they got us in the scope like the PE logo
I watch for the po-po and train at the dojo
Not a gun delirium but a working class hero
Taking a stand like a Panther with an M1 Garand
Screaming know your gun laws, self-defense is a must
When we set it off, I'ma be the first to bust
Yo, I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
What do you do when the police kick in your door like
"Get on the floor!"
Shoot you in the back 'cause who you
Are and where you at's against the law
You try to protect your home with the illest arsenal possible
Learn how to heal yourself and stop fucking with them hospitals
Get with brothers down for the cause giving it all they got
But every brother ain't a brother, fuck around and get shot
By these black kings who pack gatlings and make a rat sing
Like Nat King before they start blasting
With no accuracy, handling they beef in the public
Now an innocent child got a bag for a stomach
Property value plummet every time a shot is fired
People feeling betrayed so they take the street to riot
Cops fire shots, try to stop the spirit taking over the entire block
Politicians say it's time to march
But people past that, ready to blast at whatever coming
From the master or for office, niggas are sick of running
Yeah, all my soldiers, raise it up
Come on now (Bust your guns)
Yeah, Kweli with dead prez, come on
I'm deep in the grunts where all the
Niggas give a fuck about is stacking funds
The black and young type that's packing automatic guns
If any static comes, sporadic shots'll ring out
You get caught up, you get your fucking brains blown clean out
The killers reign supreme, survival of the illest brain and scheme
For cream, you know the game in my vein
I feel the pain for all the niggas that pass away
Trying to get cash the fastest way we know how
The old fashioned way, blasting
We acting like cocktecs and tenements
My squad flex if any shit pop and put an end to it
It's like hell, this planet I'm from consists of diligent crack sale
Resisting off the backs of young black males
It's innocent, suspended in packed jails that benefit
White well-being when niggas catch hell just for being
You might as well have a life of crime
Ain't nothing free in this life, I'll
Stick a nine in your spine for mine
No time for talk 'cause I walk what I talk
Stalking sidewalks of course with the eyes of a hawk
Crack a quart to get away from this trife world and thought
Puffing Newports 'cause life's a bitch and it's too short
My crew sport leather, gold, camouflage, rugged denim
Deadliest venom, toting buckets with nothing in 'em but ruckus
Some ill motherfuckers for real
Straight hustlers with nothing but a taste for the kill
I stay one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
One time
Yeah, come on
All my soldiers
Brooklyn, where you at?
Florida, Cincinnati, where you at?
Africa, where you at?
Yo
Credits
Writer(s): Talib Kweli Greene, Tony Louis Cottrell, Talib Kweli, Lavonne Alford, Clayton Angelo Gavin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Disclaimer:
i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare
direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia
un artista o
un publisher.