lirik lagu the reavers - slums (nasa remix)
[verse 1: akir]
yo
cops and robbers, fires and gunshots, run through these slum blocks
call me sir hansel, i handle sh~t and dismantle, ak’
scrambling just to beat the clock, stashing it just to feed my sock
rationing with my people, passionate about my pantry stock
i’m trying to get it while the getting’s good. it’s understood
that, in my hood, it’s going tough way before it should, tough guys
end up with snuffed fires, not doing what they could, dodging
out of dakota ‘ause they no longer fill their quota
i’ll make my money turning shoulders, flipping out motorolas
color like crayola while my aim or game is for payola
catch me running down fire escapes
feel the backdraft, throw the coat up around my waist. here’s
a crowbar to just open your safe. walk like shaft
cool and fast. n~gga, don’t lose the path. this is the realm
i plan to last in. if it’s necessary, throw the mask and
start blasting, thoughts of an assassin
[hook: priviledge and goldenchild]
[priviledge]
assassinating n~ggas. had to be the atrophy
new world catastrophe, n~ggas screaming, (“ooh yeah”)
when the cops come, son, ‘cause we not phased
how you gonna catch the rat in his own maze?
[goldenchild]
ayyo, what you gonna do when the guns go blao?
bodies up in the crowd, n~ggas screaming, (“ooh yeah”)
we living without a meaning. on corners, n~ggas is fiending
steady clocking demons up in their s~m~n
[verse 2: priviledge]
ayyo, as heads are supersonic, flowing like colonics
hyperbolic syllabic cess, we de la mystic
cousin, you would hate to miss it. sudan how i kick it
says, “d, i’ll be blowing trees in the mezzanine”
prophesized felestin, point the blue stream on the wall
if it all i’m not good, change the channel
learnt your values at crate & barrel with the
rest of the red states, s~xual head games
get locked in the vestibule. deacon prize: d~ck, fuel
veiled society, black cloaks, ceremonial
smoke runs generations deep. we
venerable foes in the streets. across the country, it’s real
hungry folks anywhere’ll get you for a meal
philly to turkmenistan, man, i’ve been on it like
rpg fire ‘cross the gaza strip morning
[interlude 1: priviledge]
and that’s real (you nah’mean?). come on, dawg. still…
[hook: priviledge and goldenchild]
[priviledge]
assassinating n~ggas. had to be the atrophy
new world catastrophe, n~ggas screaming, (“ooh yeah”)
when the cops come, son, ‘cause we not phased
how you gonna catch the rat in his own maze?
[goldenchild]
ayyo, what you gonna do when the guns go blao?
bodies up in the crowd, n~ggas screaming, (“ooh yeah”)
we living without a meaning. on corners, n~ggas is fiending
steady clocking demons up in their s~m~n
[verse 3: goldenchild]
turn the page, see your man on the mic, rocking crowds
‘cause we do what we like, hold it down and never
run ‘cause we fight for the soul and the words to be right
hoping those understand our plight
underground, terror firma be light. backwoodz
if you got ‘em, we like, blessing spirits through the sparks of the night
speak true sh~t at you ‘cause it’s right, drop jewels
never confuse, we keeping it tight. uh, uh
[bridge 1: goldenchild]
we keep you rocking and you moving (and you moving)
we’re in a war and we are losing (we’re losing)
and everybody is amusing (amusing)
we’re caught up in lies and we are losing (we’re losing)
[verse 4: billy woods]
i came to smoke
the fixes in, even though i weren’t broke
quick to grin, nod off that dope without
a syringe. if she deepthroat? once the bottle
spin, me and her might elope. hollow men
swallow dope in lagos, seeking hope
in chaos. apollo’s hungry, man of war
morningstar, daisy cutters blasting cars
follow the money. fat man
in the land of the starving, begging your pardon
mr. president for life, but the sergeant and majors
plotting at night, razor edge on the knife
they want your spot. beware the ides of march
we want rights, cars with spare parts
and tripe in a pot. like it or not
anywhere outside the capital is hot
better gas up the jets, terrorists tiptoeing with threats
place your bets. five cigarettes says
revolution won’t change sh~t (f~ck you thought?)
[bridge 2: goldenchild]
and this is why i make our music (goldenchild)
because it’s real, i know you feel it
and this is why we make our music (terror firma)
for this reason, it’s very therapeutic
[verse 5: vordul mega]
rage against time, moving in lines
trying to get cheddar writing these letters
hoping things’ll get better as we strike
a piety of vendettas, suffering from
poverty in a man’s checking, giving lectures
lacking mercy. they’re trying to chop our heads off
so we stay thirsty. popping, we clever
with thoughts that’ll sever the limbs of an ill
society. we doves, get by on trees
and we love being heat under, believing in each
other, surviving, knowing we each
scuff amongst beasts, live with a street hunger
feed the lung with purified air
and herbs, living truth through these words. times hard
when you need money. in the eye of
a storm, see thunder and electrified souls
terror firma
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