The S.T.O.P. Movement - Dear Mr. Pr-nt | Текст песни

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• The S.T.O.P. Movement
• Dear Mr. Pr-nt

Dear Mr. President
the world has gone astray
brothers are dying
they won't live to see today
was it all worth it
you had to lie to get your way
bloods thicker than water
what a price we had to pay

Dear Mr. President
you and your friends you all are crooks
sellin out the poor man
the soldiers lives are took
I can't see no difference from Mr. Hussein to Mr. bush
death and deception it's the brew the devil cooks

dear Mr. President you had a vendetta
get Saddam by any means and make man chedda
in 4 years you grow 600 million
the bush family
oil tycoons
they're worth billions
you even pissed on the public for the cash
you started a deadly war and hiked up the gas
that's 'cause your real pay check comes from OPEC
do the Bin Ladens also send endorsement

k to the are to the s to the one
my condolences to those that lost their son
maybe they lost their daughter when the crossed them borders
baby I'm here for ya
it's the new world order
times gettin shorta when the primes gettin longer
I'm hot in the sauna when I blow low on ya
I'm in California but I'm on every corna
krs fredwreck
never say we neva warned ya

conscious lyrics its time for a lil bit
ya hear how I'm spittin it
no one is innocent
east coast oppression yeah
west coast is livin it the east coast is givin it
every time we say that fast cash we gettin it
every time we diss our future with our kids in it
every time we push the fly rise they slaven ya
soon we'll be rappin for Saudi Arabia

Dear Mr. President
the world has gone astray
brothers are dyin
they won't live to see today
was it all worth it
you had to lie to get your way
bloods thicker than water
what a price we had to pay

Dear Mr. President
you and your friends you all are crooks
sellin out the poor man
the soldiers lives are took
I can't see no difference from my hussein to Mr. bush
death and deception it's the brew the devil cooks

I told ya'll niggaz it's a war outside
but these niggaz don't listen till the missiles start to fly
America ain't nothin but the fantasy life
but the end 'll soon come for this bull shit life
hold up before that come I gotta get mine
'cause money is all that matters at the present time
Fuck the war in Iraq
our was to survives right here in the hood
in the New York times

these dudes blowin up shit to no avail
fuck that id rather rot in jail
show why'all better than I can tell
I ain't buyin what them senators sell
while they passin them bills we livin in hell

war we all enlisted
business and pleasure?
the next ex-prez don't know the difference
strategic plannin
my cities in panic
propaganda spread
the truths kept candid
when push comes to shove and shove to push
we in the same corner sayin buck fush
its evidence they'll remember the name
its fredwreck
west coast legends of game

in a world of hate
with a round for blood
don't cooperate
we'll just shoot you up
its blood on all our hands
its blood on all our hands
its blood on all our hands
In a world of sin
where they honor greed
can't no one win
till they conquer need
its blood on all our hands
its blood on all our hands
its blood on all our hands

I already got enough on my mind to be stressin
and now I can't even watch the news its depressin
I see em battle through saddam's hood with smith n wessens
and droppin all kind of bombs with aggression
mama........ my prayers
for someone to hold ya
while I pull out a lewie for the fallen soldiers
its best to turn to the lord for he's the best to consol ya
and that's the realest thing mack 10 eva told ya
it have anything to do with no...... grippin
them dude lost their lives oversees pistol grippin
sendin

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