Luyện nghe bài hát Sharp Shooters

Artist Talib Kweli & Dead
Song Sharp
Typed by NLP Shit denmark Farum
[email protected]

(stic.man)
Everything is politics,I CHIN, Kweli, army, you know it

(M-1)
The white man came to Africa rifles and Bibles
Heard the name, changin the titles
Now instead of Chaka call me Nat with the burner
Freedom fighter for this revolution, a wage earner,
See I be what John Wilkes was to Lincoln, blam!
Sirhan Sirhan, peepin the curtains with my eyes on a Kennedy
Dead prez, politic, know your enemy, keep your close
political power come from the barrel of it
We in a war, nigga it or love it
Since they got us in a scope a P.E. logo
I watch for the (woop woop) and train at the dojo
Not a gun Deniro but a working class
Takin a stand, a panther with an M-1 Garrand
Screamin your gun laws, self defense is a must
When we set it off I'm a be the first to

(Chorus - prez)
Yo, I'm one with my gun, I love it like my son
It protects me and sure the jakes respect me
Yo, I'm one with my gun, I love it like my son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes me

(Talib Kweli)
do you do
when the police kick in door like 'get on the floor'
Shoot you in the
cause who you are and you at's against the law
You try to your home with the illest arsenal possible
how to heal yourself and stop fuckin with them hospitals
Get brothas down for the cause givin it all they got
But every ain't a brother (word), fuck around and get shot
By these black kings pack gatlings
to make a rat sing like Nat
Before they start (blow!)
With no accuracy, handling they in the public
Now an innocent got a bag for a stomach
Property value every time a shot is fired (c'mon)
People feelin betrayed so take the street to riot
Cops fire shots and try to stop the spirit takin over the entire
say it's time to march
But people is past that, to blast at whatever comin
From the master or from the office, is sick of runnin
Yeah, all my soldier, it up, c'mon, now
(Bust ya guns) yeah, with dead prez, c'mon
(Blow blow)

(stic.man)
I'm in the runs
all that niggas give a fuck about is stackin funds
The black and young type that's packin automatic
If any static comes sparatic shots'll out
You get up, you get your fuckin brains blown clean out
The killers reign supreme, survival of the illest brain and
For cream you know the in my vein
I the pain for all the niggas that passed away
Tryin to get cash the way we know how, the old fashion way
Blastin, we like cock tecs and tenniments
My flex if any shit pop, and put an end to it
It's like hell, this planet I'm from consist of dilligent sale
Assisting off the backs of black males
It's innocent, suspending in packed jails benefit
White well being, while niggas catch just for being
You might as well have a life of crime, ain't nothin free in life
I a nine in ya spine for mine
No time for talk, 'cause I walk when I
Stalkin sidewalks of course with the eyes of a
Crack a to get away from this trife world and thought
Puffin Newports life's a bitch, and it's too short
My sport leather, gold, camoflauge, rugged denim
Deadly in venom, buckets with nothin in 'em
But Rawkus, ill mothafuckas for real
Straight hustlas nothin but a taste for kill

(Chorus) 4x

(Talib talking)
Yeah, c'mon, all my
Brooklyn you at
Florida, Cincinnati you at
Africa you at, yo