Can’t get the sensimellia outta me mind Because its three pound come and then it’s back to the grind Pick up a spliff and then me pass it around Take a little lick and then me step on the ground Gangsta boy him have to move like him dead the police come in a now make the street run red Blood fire gun fire blood fire burn Pick up the mic and make the people in the back say…
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What the gangsta bawl when him bring it up Who him call with a sign when him fling it up How he step on the ground when him sling it up Where the man with the cash when him ring it up See the police come and him shoot him up And him push him in the car and him root him up And him take him down to jail and him suit him up And him back on the street cause him loot him up Rude boy now with a nine and him pick it up Police a fire back if him quick enough
Enough of people have to caught inside the middle
Gangsta n police the man now look for all the money them now grab on the money people don’t find it funny when them shot up the street people think that they’re crazy cause they just killed some lady while she still holds her baby They want to control the nation with a glock and ammunition, even over politicians, they want this position they will climb on your back just to grab for a dollar rude boy live for the dollar rude boy die for the dollar.
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My desert eagle sprays we not afraid illegal trades and crooked politicians we throwin’ grenades at Green Beret’s In the shade behind closets sub rockets doing for thugs in the projects my conviction papers in progress But this verse will be timeless, my words are like Amex with open features Of Babylon smoking the rich Diva is falling it’s become the inhabitation of devils and rebels squeezing my metal I’m hovered by cherubs I speak for the ghetto the silver badges of madness concealing like actors their witch magic’s they practice underneath the blood gluttons they savage The automatic rap for us gangsta’s with knowledge the gun fatigues and outfits Most High till my throats dry.
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