Letra da Música: Bush Killa - Paris

Esse letra de Paris já foi acessado por 126 pessoas.

Publicidade
Comente

Veja também o vídeo da música tocada.


"I understand that time is running out..."

Here I go, an angry brother finna make his move
Lookin' to buck him in the city so I never lose
See I'm get him in the crowd with a couple heavies
And lay the barrel to the ground, hold the gat steady
And now I'm ready for my adversary, talk is cheap
I'm lookin' for a way to make a play and keep it neat
And check it out and make a route and pick a rooftop
And get a spot where the view's hot, set up shop
"Cause all I wanna see is motherfuckin' brains hangin'
Another level when it's me and devils gangbangin'
So don't be tellin' me to get the non-violent spirit
'Cause when I'm violent is the only time ya devils hear it
Rat-a-tat go the gat to his devil face
I hope he think of how he done us when he lay to waste
And get the feelin' of the peelin' from the other side
From guns given to my people for my own kind
So get with Ollie 'cause I'm probably finna make ya mad
I'm steady waitin' for the day I get to see his ass
And give him two from the barrel of a Black Guerrilla
And that's real from the motherfuckin' Bush Killa

"I understand that time is running out..."

Now who is able to make war with the beast?
It starts with P
Trumpets sound when I push the program
And set my sight on the serpent man
Swingin' the sword of the righteous
Make devils drop and they just can't spite this
Genocide and the minds of men make
Brothers like me fill up with hate
I smell a skunk in the air
'Cause your program still ain't fair
So who you wanna blame for The Hate That Hate Made
When P let off and pigs get sprayed
Y'all wanna kill off the black man
But I know your master plan
So we'll see who stop the Black Guerrilla
P-Dog the Bush Killa

Yeah, it's P-Dog the Bush Killa

Yeah, tolerance is gettin' thinner
Cause Iraq never called me "nigger"
So what I wanna go off and fight a war for
You best believe I got your draft card
So bad to hate somebody else
But much worse to hate yourself
Victim to the mentacide of the devil why
Must black folk be made to die
Keepin' 'em on and on.. keepin' ya on and on
Like my brother down South said, "Fuck the Police"
I'm sayin', "No Justice, No Peace"
So I just stick 'em like that
Cause everybody want to get the black, huh
But we'll see who'll stop the Black Guerrilla
P-Dog the Bush Killa

Yeah, it's P-Dog the Bush Killa

Yeah, so where's he at? I might wait
For his motherfuckin' ass on a rooftop next tour
Buck his dome cause I'm known to play for keeps
Lay low to the flo' and keep it neat
And send his ass home belly up
Should've listened to the facts that the black's been tellin ya
It's no surprise that a brother got wise
Now rat-a-tat-tat, it's an eye for an eye
How many, got to die before we see
Them motherfuckas don't give a damn for you or me
So wear a vest on your chest and the rest stand still
For P-Dog the Bush Killa


Quer fazer uma correção nesta letra?





    Comentários (0) Postar um Comentário

    Nenhum comentário encontrado. Seja o primeiro!