lirik lagu sean price - apartheid
[verse 1: sean price]
i can’t lose
the best mc in my hood, i can’t choose
worst mcs in my town, i can’t cruise
never fight dude with white spikes on dance shoes
the lame stuffer
bang, deranged f-cker
i walk bys and guys became kane tuckers
make enemies, make friends
i make money, money make moves in the state pen’, p
this is my slot, rookie
your snot box get rocked over hydrox cookies
slapbox n-gg-s
free can of soda with the snack box, n-gg-
the rest i can’t tell ya
but catalog this sh-t as the best of mandela
i tear apart gods
separate head from neck and call it apartheid
[chorus: general steele]
with the bloodclaat
n-gg-, fi gunshot
mafi play big shot
shoot up them drug spot
rude boy say f-ck cop
sean p and buckshot
buckshot, slugs fly
‘nough man a die for them tough talk
tomahawk, these shots walk the walk
llama spark, choppa bark
box him up, cart him off
leave, we are king of kings
some say lord of lords
we spit the hardest bars
draw your sword, mastered the art of war
[verse 2: buckshot]
if ruck don’t like you, buck don’t like you
ruck down, buck down, what a n-gg- might do
black moonwalk on ’em, rest in peace to michael
r.i.p. phife from tribe, he in the light too
hip-hop heaven, you see seven, that’s the god
all praises due to allah, sun, moon, star
some move bars, my n-gg- ruck move cages
it’s only one buck, but i bust two gauges
yeah, drive your b-tch crazy with my stick shift
now she g-ssed up, wanna ride on my clik d-ck
groupie with an uzi, n-gg-, shots after shot
but i’m bulletproof, when i’m in the booth, bombaclaat
listen, if my n-gg- ruck never said your name
dead your claim, you with the fame, you with the lames
[chorus: general steele]
with the bloodclaat
n-gg-, fi gunshot
mafi play big shot
shoot up them drug spot
rude boy say f-ck cop
sean p and buckshot
buckshot, slugs fly
‘nough man a die for them tough talk
tomahawk, these shots walk the walk
llama spark, choppa bark
box him up, cart him off
leave, we are king of kings
some say lord of lords
we spit the hardest bars
[?] mastered the art of war
[verse 3: buckshot]
yeah, the most area typical
great ape, say it to your face, no subliminal
straight craze, f-ckin’ maniac, act cynical
finish you, you’s a little n-gg-, raps minuscule
f-ck is wrong with these n-gg-s?
what in your mind would make you think i’d do a song with these n-gg-s?
i know hitters, pimpers and k!llers
lions, tigers, gorillas
leave you tied up for a skrilla
won’t find you ’til next december
salute to the foundin’ fathers
that birthed you when you was little
and saved you from all the sorrow
they did it so we wouldn’t have to do it
but we all want a taste, take a bite, taste the fluid
drew, knew it, paper, blew through it, whole crew stupid
bar fights, dark nights, but we all got through it (that’s boot camp)
i’m my brother’s keeper ’til the day i’m sleepin’
eat thy food, roll a tree and put your feet up, apartheid
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