Luyện nghe bài hát Sharp Shooters

Artist Kweli & Dead Prez
Sharp Shooters
Typed by NLP Shit Farum 3520
[email protected]

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

(M-1)
The white man came to with rifles and Bibles
the name, started changin the titles
Now instead of call me Nat Turner with the burner
Freedom fighter for revolution, fuck a wage earner,
See I be what John Wilkes was to Lincoln, blam!
Sirhan Sirhan, peepin the curtains with my eyes on a Kennedy
prez, politic, know your enemy, keep your toast close
Because political power come from the of it
We in a war, nigga leave it or it
Since they got us in a like a P.E. logo
I watch for the po-po (woop woop) and train at the
Not a gun Deniro but a class hero
Takin a stand, like a panther with an M-1
Screamin know your gun laws, 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 makes sure the respect me
Yo, I'm one with my gun, I love it like my son
It protects me and makes the jakes respect me

(Talib Kweli)
do you do
when the police kick in your like 'get on the floor'
you in the back
cause who you are and you at's against the law
You try to protect home with the illest arsenal possible
Learn how to heal and stop fuckin with them hospitals
Get with brothas for the cause givin it all they got
But every brother ain't a brother (word), fuck around and get
By these kings that pack gatlings
to make a rat like Nat King
they start blasting (blow!)
With no accuracy, handling beef in the public
Now an innocent child got a bag for a
Property value plumit every time a shot is (c'mon)
People feelin betrayed so they take the street to
Cops fire and try to stop the spirit takin over the entire block
Politicians say it's to march
But people is past that, ready to at whatever comin
From the or from the office, niggas 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 deep in the
where all that niggas give a fuck about is funds
The black and type that's packin automatic guns
If any static comes shots'll ring out
You get up, you get your fuckin brains blown clean out
The reign supreme, survival of the illest brain and scheme
For cream you know the game in my
I feel the pain for all the that passed away
Tryin to get cash the fastest way we know how, the old way
Blastin, we actin like cock and tenniments
My squad flex if any pop, and put an end to it
It's like hell, this I'm from consist of dilligent crack sale
Assisting off the backs of young black
It's innocent, suspending in jails that benefit
White well being, while catch hell just for being
You might as well a life of crime, ain't nothin free in this life
I stick a in ya spine for mine
No time for talk, 'cause I walk I talk
sidewalks of course with the eyes of a hawk
Crack a quart to get from this trife world and thought
Puffin Newports life's a bitch, and it's too short
My crew sport leather, gold, camoflauge, denim
in venom, totin buckets with nothin in 'em
But Rawkus, ill mothafuckas for real
hustlas with nothin but a taste for kill

(Chorus) 4x

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