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Текст песни Goodie Mob - Fighting

Goodie Mob - Fighting слова песни

Put me in a serious situation hope I get another chanceTo live life as I know4:30 was the time, I`m feelin` a pain in my chestI guess I smoke too much sessMakin` a nigga mo` slow off the doe in Olympian bubblin` under whoWhere`s the crew thick mist in the trailI`m feelin` pressure off the tessSpine advertising swine on Channel 2 when in the same breathYou tellin` me don`t eat from that plate increasin` my bloodOutbreaks on my skin don`t blend with the way I want this thang to flowIf I can help the cause don`t have to treat it with no tricksYou settin` me cancer on a stick, visualize destruction soon to comeThrowin` within this city we call AtlantisPrayin` like a mantis everyday ain`t good in the woods of SouthwestI stress in my rhymes...fighting for yo` spirit and you mind!So what it be like my brother be catching gangreneThe water be brown in the morning in my sinkWho that in my eyes some Clampett eaten away by fungiAnother virus disease, at ease, quick to lead a strike against HaitiWhen half your army in the bed with pains in their backAnd behind their headWitch doctors giving more Medicaid but ain`t no aidBut these ain`t tha same from `Nam, didn`t give a damnWho only wanted Saddam now your hands numbCan`t run old age before thirtyThis what you wanted when you signed your (hand) `cock on tha lineFightin` for your spirit and your mind, service to my kind...Seems like we`re fighting for our spirit and mindThey got us fighting for our spirit and mindStill fighting for our spirit and mindWe can`t stop fighting for our spirit and mindMultiple stab wounds sticin` thru in the ol` school Cutlass SupremeThirty-five cents to my name and that`s fo` a blunt manThe way thangs goin` today I might as well be dead, so dreadThe voices on the radio got me seamedCan`t put a smile on my face cuz my pockets ain`t straightAt least not the way I want `em to beEarly as phuckk, eight fifty-oneLast night I barely got some Z`s ... sleep...uhI can`t ol` Burd in the next room havin` nightmaresIt sound like wind blowin` when she weep, speakI can`t I`m tired on the way to the slave camp...I utter very little words, I`m thinkin` about a ciggy I snatchedFrom the jaws of death, a sack of crumbled herb ...Rollin` down Main StreetEast Point, I swerve, Campbelton Rd, SouthsideEight fify-five, jacket at bus top standin`, sweatin` but, I ain`tsmilinOutside it`s twenty below fool I`m ridin` to the liquor storeClosed that`s right I go hotta at this beeso I knowWho work at the Texaco Gas station, pacin` back down memory laneFeelin` strange can`t Explain, so bare wit me pleaeThru this green light I seesThat tramp that gave me herpes wreck, wham, crash, stumblin` jumps outThe ride empty the glock fo`, five, D.E.A.D.Woke up handcuffed inside GradyTagged with an I-U-D (intoxicated una dank)I took two swiggs outts my deuce-deuce, old ENow Stephen K-I-N-G had the story all wrongBlood last five points, I`m gone[Cee-Lo]As individuals and as a people we are at warBut the majority of my side got they eyes open wideBut still don`t recognize what we fighting foI guess that`s what I`m writing for to try to shed some lightBut we been in the darkness for so long, don`t know right from wrongY`all scared to come near it, you ignore the voiceIn your head when you hear itThe enemy is after yo` spirit but you think it`s all in yo` mindYou`ll find a lot of the reason we behindIs because the system is designed to keep our third eyes blindBut not blind in the sense that our other two eyes can`t seeYou just end investing quality time in places you don`t even neeed to beWe don`t even know who we are, but the answer ain`t farMatter of fact its right up under our noseBut the system taught us to keep that book closedSee the reason why he gotta lie and deceive is soThat we won`t act accordinglyTo get the blessings we suppose to receiveYeah it`s true, Uncle Sam wants you to be a devil tooSee, he`s jealous because his skin is a curse but what`s worseis if I put it in a verse y`all listen to some bullshit firstWe ain`t natural born killas, we are a spiritual peopleGod`s chosen fewThink about the slave trade when they had boats withThousands of us on boardAnd we still was praising the Lord now you ready to dieOver a coat, a necklace round your throat, that`s bullshitBlack people ya`ll better realize, we losin, you better fight and dieIf you got to get yo` spirit and mind back and we got to do it togetherGoodie Mob means, "The Good Die Mostly Over Bullshit"You take away one "O" and it will let you know"God is Every Man of Blackness"The Lord has spoken thru me and the G-Mo-B!

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