Song | Ghetto Politics - Album Version (Explicit) |
Artist | Pras |
Album | Win Lose Or Draw |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Michel, Temp | |
Pine, boxes, nine, oxes | |
Unidentified, flying objects | |
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers | |
Niggaz that can't get out man they locked up | |
[Pras Michel] | |
Criminal, minded, you've been blinded | |
Justice for all (c'mon) help me find it | |
Please we'll wind it, get in the hole | |
And start to grind it, who's behind it | |
Big brother got us spread like an atlas | |
Powerless in fear that leads to paralysis | |
Now when I speak, do your psycho-nalysis | |
And those recordin Wonderland like Alice's | |
Y'all don't know about guerilla warfare | |
Kids in Haiti, trapped with the hardware | |
Wear them by the pair while playin truth or dare | |
Prisoners of war worse than the terror scare | |
This is the jungle we live in, this is the concrete | |
I call you pussy cause you are what you eat, homey | |
It's the art of war homes they play for keeps | |
So you still think that gangster shit is sweet? | |
[Chorus] - repeat 2X | |
[uncredited guest rapper] | |
Remember when you had a lot, yeah it was yours for sure | |
But we fight back, and ain't takin your shit no more | |
So raw, my four-four's leave a couple bent | |
The government talk shit, hand 'em a Doublemint | |
You ****in with me? I see you like a jewel | |
With the terrorist my nigga, diesel like the fuel | |
Step up smash your team, throw matches at your head | |
Quarters after we bathe it in gasoline | |
Or petroleum, you think it's sugar when it's sodium | |
Handcuffs ropes and chains holdin 'em | |
All in the zone, have your dough and your fame | |
But you ain't takin nuttin wit'cha, but your bones to your grave | |
To the world you're a slave, we the makers | |
Revolutionary haters, as anthropologists, gynecologysts | |
Astronauts and shit, I don't think y'all ready | |
For the apocalypse, so y'all better stay on top of shit | |
[Chorus] - repeat 2X | |
[uncredited guest #2] | |
My flow contradicted, apocalyptic | |
With plans to cop the riches, make blacks stop the snitchin | |
Politics mixed with, new statistics | |
Futuristic, tell me are you a witness | |
Or a soldier? Innocent, criminal minded | |
I'm militant, wise to ignorant, livin with | |
No time to eat and no time to sleep, my hustle is deep | |
Wearin the same gear all week | |
Near all heat, until I draw, it's kind of raw | |
Like a war between my ances-tors and dinosaurs | |
I'm on some **** the cops shit, ask your moms | |
She don't even know, what this {?} tax is on | |
Probably got another country never shown on map | |
For secret agents and the ones who faked they death live at | |
Where your kids disappear to when they get kidnapped | |
Streets is white, life is black, and this shit is trapped | |
[Chorus] | |
{*beatboxing*} | |
Y'all been rockin fatigues for years right? | |
Y'all ready to war?! | |
[Chorus] | |
[Pras Michel] | |
Alright, where you at my niggaz? You in the Matrix? | |
Get the **** off the streets, y'knahmsayin? | |
**** all that gangster shit, we here | |
It's real niggaz, put on your boots, man up! | |
Get ready for war, ha, guerillas baby, {?} |
zuo ci : Michel, Temp | |
Pine, boxes, nine, oxes | |
Unidentified, flying objects | |
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers | |
Niggaz that can' t get out man they locked up | |
Pras Michel | |
Criminal, minded, you' ve been blinded | |
Justice for all c' mon help me find it | |
Please we' ll wind it, get in the hole | |
And start to grind it, who' s behind it | |
Big brother got us spread like an atlas | |
Powerless in fear that leads to paralysis | |
Now when I speak, do your psychonalysis | |
And those recordin Wonderland like Alice' s | |
Y' all don' t know about guerilla warfare | |
Kids in Haiti, trapped with the hardware | |
Wear them by the pair while playin truth or dare | |
Prisoners of war worse than the terror scare | |
This is the jungle we live in, this is the concrete | |
I call you pussy cause you are what you eat, homey | |
It' s the art of war homes they play for keeps | |
So you still think that gangster shit is sweet? | |
Chorus repeat 2X | |
uncredited guest rapper | |
Remember when you had a lot, yeah it was yours for sure | |
But we fight back, and ain' t takin your shit no more | |
So raw, my fourfour' s leave a couple bent | |
The government talk shit, hand ' em a Doublemint | |
You in with me? I see you like a jewel | |
With the terrorist my nigga, diesel like the fuel | |
Step up smash your team, throw matches at your head | |
Quarters after we bathe it in gasoline | |
Or petroleum, you think it' s sugar when it' s sodium | |
Handcuffs ropes and chains holdin ' em | |
All in the zone, have your dough and your fame | |
But you ain' t takin nuttin wit' cha, but your bones to your grave | |
To the world you' re a slave, we the makers | |
Revolutionary haters, as anthropologists, gynecologysts | |
Astronauts and shit, I don' t think y' all ready | |
For the apocalypse, so y' all better stay on top of shit | |
Chorus repeat 2X | |
uncredited guest 2 | |
My flow contradicted, apocalyptic | |
With plans to cop the riches, make blacks stop the snitchin | |
Politics mixed with, new statistics | |
Futuristic, tell me are you a witness | |
Or a soldier? Innocent, criminal minded | |
I' m militant, wise to ignorant, livin with | |
No time to eat and no time to sleep, my hustle is deep | |
Wearin the same gear all week | |
Near all heat, until I draw, it' s kind of raw | |
Like a war between my ancestors and dinosaurs | |
I' m on some the cops shit, ask your moms | |
She don' t even know, what this ? tax is on | |
Probably got another country never shown on map | |
For secret agents and the ones who faked they death live at | |
Where your kids disappear to when they get kidnapped | |
Streets is white, life is black, and this shit is trapped | |
Chorus | |
beatboxing | |
Y' all been rockin fatigues for years right? | |
Y' all ready to war?! | |
Chorus | |
Pras Michel | |
Alright, where you at my niggaz? You in the Matrix? | |
Get the off the streets, y' knahmsayin? | |
all that gangster shit, we here | |
It' s real niggaz, put on your boots, man up! | |
Get ready for war, ha, guerillas baby, ? |
zuò cí : Michel, Temp | |
Pine, boxes, nine, oxes | |
Unidentified, flying objects | |
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers | |
Niggaz that can' t get out man they locked up | |
Pras Michel | |
Criminal, minded, you' ve been blinded | |
Justice for all c' mon help me find it | |
Please we' ll wind it, get in the hole | |
And start to grind it, who' s behind it | |
Big brother got us spread like an atlas | |
Powerless in fear that leads to paralysis | |
Now when I speak, do your psychonalysis | |
And those recordin Wonderland like Alice' s | |
Y' all don' t know about guerilla warfare | |
Kids in Haiti, trapped with the hardware | |
Wear them by the pair while playin truth or dare | |
Prisoners of war worse than the terror scare | |
This is the jungle we live in, this is the concrete | |
I call you pussy cause you are what you eat, homey | |
It' s the art of war homes they play for keeps | |
So you still think that gangster shit is sweet? | |
Chorus repeat 2X | |
uncredited guest rapper | |
Remember when you had a lot, yeah it was yours for sure | |
But we fight back, and ain' t takin your shit no more | |
So raw, my fourfour' s leave a couple bent | |
The government talk shit, hand ' em a Doublemint | |
You in with me? I see you like a jewel | |
With the terrorist my nigga, diesel like the fuel | |
Step up smash your team, throw matches at your head | |
Quarters after we bathe it in gasoline | |
Or petroleum, you think it' s sugar when it' s sodium | |
Handcuffs ropes and chains holdin ' em | |
All in the zone, have your dough and your fame | |
But you ain' t takin nuttin wit' cha, but your bones to your grave | |
To the world you' re a slave, we the makers | |
Revolutionary haters, as anthropologists, gynecologysts | |
Astronauts and shit, I don' t think y' all ready | |
For the apocalypse, so y' all better stay on top of shit | |
Chorus repeat 2X | |
uncredited guest 2 | |
My flow contradicted, apocalyptic | |
With plans to cop the riches, make blacks stop the snitchin | |
Politics mixed with, new statistics | |
Futuristic, tell me are you a witness | |
Or a soldier? Innocent, criminal minded | |
I' m militant, wise to ignorant, livin with | |
No time to eat and no time to sleep, my hustle is deep | |
Wearin the same gear all week | |
Near all heat, until I draw, it' s kind of raw | |
Like a war between my ancestors and dinosaurs | |
I' m on some the cops shit, ask your moms | |
She don' t even know, what this ? tax is on | |
Probably got another country never shown on map | |
For secret agents and the ones who faked they death live at | |
Where your kids disappear to when they get kidnapped | |
Streets is white, life is black, and this shit is trapped | |
Chorus | |
beatboxing | |
Y' all been rockin fatigues for years right? | |
Y' all ready to war?! | |
Chorus | |
Pras Michel | |
Alright, where you at my niggaz? You in the Matrix? | |
Get the off the streets, y' knahmsayin? | |
all that gangster shit, we here | |
It' s real niggaz, put on your boots, man up! | |
Get ready for war, ha, guerillas baby, ? |