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Talib Kweli and Dead Prez

Sharp Shooters

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Текст песни Talib Kweli and Dead Prez - Sharp Shooters

Talib Kweli and Dead Prez - Sharp Shooters слова песни

(stic.man)Everything is politics, Kweli, people army, you know it(M-1)The white man came to Africa with rifles and BiblesHeard the name, started changin the titlesNow instead of Chaka call me Nat Turner with the burnerFreedom fighter for this revolution, fuck a wave journerSee I be what John Wilkes Booth was to Lincoln, blam!Sirhan Sirhan, peepin through the curtains with my eyes on a KennedyDead prez, politic, know your enemy, keep your toast closeBecause political power come from the barrel of itWe in a war, nigga leave it or love itSince they got us in a scope like a P.E. logoI watch for the po-po (woop woop) and train at the dojoNot a gun Deniro but a working class heroTakin a stand, like a panther with an M-1 GuranScreamin know your gun laws, self defense is a mustWhen we set it off I`m a be the first to bust(Chorus - dead prez)Yo, I`m one with my gun, I love it like my first sonIt protects me and makes sure the jakes respect meYo, I`m one with my gun, I love it like my first sonIt protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me(Talib Kweli)What do you do when the police kick in your door like `get on the floor`Shoot you in the backcause who you are and where you at`s against the lawYou try to protect your home with the illest arsenal possibleLearn how to heal yourself and stop fuckin with them hospitalsGet with brothas down for the cause givin it all they gotBut every brother ain`t a brother (word), fuck around and get shotBy these black kings that pack gatlings to make a rat sing like Nat KingBefore they start blasting (blow!)With no accuracy, handling they beef in the publicNow an innocent child got a bag for a stomachProperty value plumit every time a shot is fired (c`mon)People feelin betrayed so they take the street to riotCops fire shots and try to stop the spirit takin over the entire blockPoliticians say it`s time to marchBut people is past that, ready to blast at whatever cominFrom the master or from the office, niggas is sick of runninYeah, all my soldier, raise it up, c`mon, now(Bust ya guns) yeah, Kweli with dead prez, c`mon(Blow blow)(stic.man)I`m deep in the runs where all that niggas give a fuck about is stackin fundsThe black and young type that`s packin automatic gunsIf any static comes sparatic shots`ll ring outYou get caught up, you get your fuckin brains blown clean outThe killers reign supreme, survival of the illest brain and schemeFor cream you know the game in my veinI feel the pain for all the niggas that passed awayTryin to get cash the fastest way we know how, the old fashion wayBlastin, we actin like cock tecs and tennimentsMy squad flex if any shit pop, and put an end to itIt`s like hell, this planet I`m from consist of dilligent crack saleAssisting off the backs of young black malesIt`s innocent, suspending in packed jails that benefitWhite well being, while niggas catch hell just for beingYou might as well have a life of crime, ain`t nothin free in this lifeI stick a nine in ya spine for mineNo time for talk, `cause I walk when I talkStalkin sidewalks of course with the eyes of a hawkCrack a quart to get away from this trife world and thoughtPuffin Newports `cause life`s a bitch, and it`s too shortMy crew sport leather, gold, camoflauge, rugged denimDeadly in venom, totin buckets with nothin in `emBut Rawkus, some ill mothafuckas for realStraight hustlas with nothin but a taste for kill(Chorus) 4x(Talib Kweli talking)Yeah, c`mon, all my soldiersBrooklyn where you atFlorida, Cincinnati where you atAfrica where you at, yo

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