lirik lagu the reavers – warrior (007 platoon mix)
the reavers (ft. hasan salaam, billy woods, keith masters, akir, spiga, and goldenchild) ~ “warrior (007 platoon mix)”
[emcee(s): hasan salaam, billy woods, keith masters, akir, and spiga]
[producer(s): 007 (aka bond)]
[hook/vocals: goldenchild]
[verse 1: hasan salaam]
dear death
i still haven’t completed the test, so i live
life in every breath and calculate my every step
pay attention to the details ‘cause the tell~lie~vision tend
to slide lies by you like retroviruses through t cells
everything’s for sale in this era of self~pleasure
bеneath the surface of mascara, psеudos support sweatshops
when they shop at macy’s to cop t~shirts of che guevara
i’ma tell you like it is. history sold by the survivors like romans
becoming catholics after murdering the messiah. some of the
signs to decipher might confuse ya ‘cause their angles
are sort of like triangles off the coast of bermuda
but barcodes on your neck is the future, so atf kicking
down my doors no different than urban warfare in fallujah
you could consider this the ninety~five pieces of martin luther
second shooter from the grassy knoll, virus in your computer
modern~day lion of judah bring truth from the highest
so the only rock i’ll sling is able to drop goliath
[verse 2: billy woods]
you wanna fight?
fight with we. seventh grade out of africa like
k!ller bees, another monkey in the tree. out of spite
they pushing b~ttons like an mpc, d~mn disgrace
aight, american me, lunchtray your face, and if it’s
one on three, pick the smallest n~gga and pop his collar
make the crowd holler, the bigger the brawler, the harder he gon’ hit that locker
you shook, dunny. the scholar who speaks proper, remastered kid with
textbooks and social studies, lunch period or gym class
i ain’t had no homies, n~gga, i had to swing fast
ride for cheese, bust over and see cats got duffed, come home
with black eye like, “mom, you should see the other guy,” let fly
with hammer hands, leave them blue, man, jam in hammer pants
[verse 3: keith masters]
fighting off the whips and chains, fighting off these vicious claims
that we were just three~fifths, so we had to fight for that to change
fighting for our lives, fighting for our sons and wives
we strive to survive, but the outcome is a toss~up like
we juggling some knives, stay buzzing like them hives, reavers
going twelve rounds, so we fighting for the prize over
bond’s beats, fighting like a warrior would, terror
firma, muhf~cker, bust shots in your hood. uh!
[hook: goldenchild]
no matter what they say, let the truth be known
we still live oppressed, but we carry on
forever fight for freedom, it’s the warrior song ‘cause i’m
a warrior, yes, i’m a warrior
[verse 4: akir]
yo, ayyo, i
flow for this victory, simply providing history
so little kids that mimic me will grow to be guillotines when
sharp like darts against oppression over centuries while
creating symphonies you bump until your system bleeds
this is our future. evading caps that shoot us, they make
it hot to move us. amazing ak’ done grew up through
adversities, precursors and teens urgently thirsting for
their self~esteem, building this american dream, and with accounts
full of cream, i walk around in public, finding
new subjects, n~ggas on dumb sh~t, ready, go, and let the gun cl!ck
it’s hunger in a seed’s stomach that keeps his thought driving
‘til it’s time to dive in, plotting conniving, and we ain’t dying
we survive and multiply, getting higher like a fire
burning down a f~cking crazy foul environment, silent
warrior (‘cause i’m a warrior)
[verse 5: spiga]
i stay
humble, or at least pray to be, may believe occasionally, aim high
rapidly waiting for the day that blood’ll rain on me
happily bathing flagrantly, catching a case is natural, attributes
of a pastor with brass knuckles coming after you
beg, rob, and steal when i need it, but when do you need it? when your
ribs are sucked in so much, you can see it. hunger? feed it
believe it. the reavers will receive the reaper. trouble in pairs, it’s a double
feature like the ring and the people under the stairs, no one cares
unless it’s them on the screen, neck on the block, catching
advance, catch you in between stops. i need diapers and shoes
toilet papers and booze, weed and clues on how
to separate the greens from the blues, locked and loaded
terror firma
Lirik lagu lainnya:
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- lirik lagu kuchy – קוצ’י – impolsivi me’uvhan – אימפולסיבי מאובחן
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