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作词 : Davis, Riley |
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Sample -- "blacks are too fuckin broke to be republicans", ice cube |
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(cut and scratched by dj pam the funkstress) |
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Verse one：boots |
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In this land i can't stand or sit |
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And not get shit thrown up in my face |
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A brotha never gets his props |
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I'm doin bellyflops at the department of waste |
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And everyday i pulls a front so nobody pulls my card |
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I got a mirror in my pocket and i practice lookin hard |
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I'm lookin behind me beside me ahead of me |
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There'll be no feet makin tracks here instead of me |
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But i can't disregard just what the news says to me |
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I'm twenty-one, so i've reached my life expectancy |
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At any minute i could be in some shit that kills my skinny ass |
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From motherfuckers doin the sellout strut or probably oakland task |
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My relationship with opd has been like one big diss |
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Long arm of the law, grips my dick so tight it's hard to even piss |
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So i forgot ain't even got a pot to do it in |
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Up at the church they're tellin me it's because i live in sin |
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So i grin, but nevertheless my mind won't dwell |
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I must be trippin cause i thought i was livin in hell |
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Capitalism is like a spider, the web is getting tighter |
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I'm struggling like a fighter, just to bust loose |
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It's like a noose asyphyxiation sets in |
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Just when i think i'm free it seems to me the spider steps in |
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This web is made of money made of greed made of me |
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Of what i have become in a parasite economy |
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Verse two: e roc |
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In the winter there's a splinter with the smell of the rain |
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And the scent of the street, but all i smell is the pain |
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Of a brotha who's a hustler and he's stuck to the grind |
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Of a sista who's a hooker gotta sell her behind |
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Desperation makes her brotha get a little more bold |
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The circumstance gets deeper when it's damp and it's cold |
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So i spend my time thinking bout the ultimate gank |
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Can i get my coup together pull a move on the bank? |
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I be the picture perfect hustler for the piece of the pie |
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But my daddy always taught me just to reach for the sky |
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Now my dream and aspirations go from single to hoe |
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As i realize there's a million motherfuckers in the cold |
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No need to be told, cause when you got a million po' people |
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Gettin ganked, by a few that are rich and evil |
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But it's illegal, to wonder how they livin fat |
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(one two three) everybody get a gat |
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Verse three: boots |
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Ahhhhhh yeah! |
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Niggaz, thugs, dope dealers and pimps |
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Basketball players, rap stars, and simps |
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That's what little black boys... are made of |
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Sluts, hoes, and press the naps around your beck |
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Broads pop that coochie, bitches stay in check |
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That's what little black girls... are made of |
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But if we're made of that who made us |
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And what can we do to change us |
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The oppressor tries to tame us |
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Here's a foot for his anus! |
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Well since the days when i was shittin in diapers |
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It was evident the president didn't like us |
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Assassination attempts i'd root for the snipers |
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My teacher told me that i didn't know what right was |
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Well she was wrong cause i knew what a right was |
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And a left and an uppercut, too |
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I had a hunch a sucker punch is what my people got |
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That's why i was constantly red, black, and blue |
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Outro: e roc, boots |
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[e] boots, boots, boots, you wanna throw some shots out? |
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[b] ay man i ain't done with my lyrics yet, that's not cool |
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[e] ay, but ain't this a freestyle? |
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[b] naw, this is not yet freestyle cause we not yet free |
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[e] hey we gonna throw some shots out anyway |
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*guns are cocked* |
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[b] awright fuckit, who y'all wanna throw some shots out to? |
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[e] uhh whassup with that uhh bill clinton and al gore? |
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[b] aight, they the new masters up in the white house and everything |
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Let's throw some shots out |
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[e] yeah |
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*blam, blam blam* |
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[b] awright, what about bush? he on the way out and everything |
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But i think we need a goodbye for his ass |
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*gun cocked* |
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[e] uh-huh |
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*blam* |
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[e] see-ya! |
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[b] awright, what about ross perot and the good ol boys? |
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*guns cocked* |
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[e] the who? |
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[b] you know who they are, awright |
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*blam blam, blam* |
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[b] ay what about pete wilson? (whassup) that pete wilson motherfucker |
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[e] yeah whassup wit him? |
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[b] awright |
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*blam* |
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[e] got him! |
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[b] awright, ay, the l.a.p.d., *guns cocking repeatedly throughout* |
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The o.p.d., the richmond p.d., detroit p.d., ay |
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[e] ay fuck it, fuck it, the whole, the whole motherfuckin p.d. |
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[b] awright, load up |
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[e] yeah, here's a loaded club for yo' ass |
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*semi-automatic* |
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[b] awright, cool -- ay, what about these skinheads? |
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Ay check it out |
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[e] i can't stand dem fools |
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[b] awright awright, load it up, load it up, awright, cool |
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*semi-automatic* |
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[e] yeah, got em! |
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[b] ay, what about these sellout motherfuckers! |
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[e] who? *gun cocks* |
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[b] you know these sellout motherfuckers -- ellay duharris |
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[e] who else? *gun cocks* |
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[b] tom bradley |
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[e] who else? *gun cocks* |
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[b] david dinkins, ay, line em up |
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[e] yeah be true to the game |
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*blam blam blam blam* |
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[b] ay, we outta ammo, what we gon do? |
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[e] let's get the fuck up outta here |
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[b] aight cool, we out |