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Текст песни Salt N Pepa - Heaven N` Hell

Salt N Pepa - Heaven N` Hell слова песни




CHORUSChildren play women produceKids killing kids just for the juiceNow Africa is looking for the truthBut it`s gonna take a while to enlighten the youthIn this edition of the story no need to bore meIt can`t do nothin` for me even Denzel Washington couldn`t find any gloryIn the overcrowded streets of the cityI know it`s shitty but I can do without the pity(Baby never lived in the ghetto)...or the projectsBut I wear my Tim boots and Hi-Tecs, and I wrecks havocAnd if you try to play me I won`t have itTrix are for kids, this kid is not a silly rabbit(Well) He`s standin` on a corner with his system pumpin` loudNext him goin` off, scream in the crowdA whole lot of screams, a lot of broken glassBrothers like to wear their pants fallin` off their assGirls today don`t wear no brasLittle John Doe got a ho turnin` tricks in the barsGrandma carries a can of maceAnd she`ll stick a .45 in your faceSo come and meet my man Brett (Yo, what up, Brett?)He`s smokin`, but it`s not a cigarette (Speak on it, Pep)I wonder how the hell a brother lets himselfGet into somethin` he can`t out of? (Uh-huh, uh-huh)A lot of my friends are sick and tired (Sick of who?)The police (Word!) rollin` on `em, pickin` on, holdin` on `emHopin` that they got one of `emIt was a drug bust, but something`s weird(Well, what`s the matter, Spinderella?)The way half a million disappearedCHORUSHeaven and hell is on earthHeaven and hell is on earthWho gives a damn about me?(Huh?) Me (what?), me, yeah, little old meMe, myself, and ILive or die, laugh or cryI`m all that I got, Pops, and that`s a lot, HopsI`d rather rot in jail before I ho-hopGo `head, me, tell `emThey may be hard of hearingSo keep yellin` at the top of your lungsNow everybody`s got gunsThey wanna be hard rocks and not be a foolThat buys a history bookNot me, I`ll need a clock, not rock to my hitsAnd that two-fifth click to my titsAnd Playgirl`s gonna rip, and I`m-a have to rip shitAh, go for yours cuz you gottaIn the ghetto you don`t get a medal if you settle for the dramaShe`s a gangster and the other terminal cancerAsk too many questions and my Smith and Wesson will answerHeaven and hell is on earthHeaven and hell is on earthWell everybody be damned, her father`s in jailSister`s on the corner screamin`, "Booty for sale"Mom spends the night gettin` drunk with her uncleHer brother`s sellin` radios and toasters by the trunkfulSee, every man she ever messed would wind up deadSome might fall in jail, others runnin` from the Feds(The only thing she ever loved was a piece of lead)And that`s a double-barrelled pump underneath the bedSome people wanna fill the world with silly love songs and looney tunesAnd some got sad songs, mad songs, and moody bluesThere`s good news and bad news, military coupsA rebel with no cause in a pack of foolsI never lived in the slum, never shot a gunBut I`ll use one, don`t make me use oneCHORUSHeaven and hell is on earthHeaven and hell is on earthCHORUS (repeat/fade)

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