Luyện nghe bài hát Sharp Shooters

Artist Talib Kweli & Dead
Song Shooters
Typed by NLP Shit denmark 3520
[email protected]

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

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

(Talib Kweli)
do you do
when the police kick in door like 'get on the floor'
you in the back
cause who you are and where you against the law
You try to protect home with the illest arsenal possible
Learn how to heal yourself and stop fuckin with them
Get with brothas down for the cause givin it all got
But every brother ain't a brother (word), around and get shot
By these black kings that gatlings
to a rat sing like Nat King
Before they start (blow!)
no accuracy, handling they beef in the public
Now an child got a bag for a stomach
Property value plumit every time a shot is (c'mon)
People feelin betrayed so they the street to riot
Cops fire shots and try to stop the spirit takin over the block
Politicians say time to march
But people is past that, ready to blast at whatever
the master 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 in the runs
where all niggas give a fuck about is stackin funds
The black and young that's packin automatic guns
If any static comes shots'll ring out
You get caught up, you get fuckin brains blown clean out
The killers reign supreme, of the illest brain and scheme
For cream you know the in my vein
I the pain for all the niggas that passed away
to get cash the fastest way we know how, the old fashion way
Blastin, we actin like tecs and tenniments
My squad if any shit pop, and put an end to it
It's like hell, planet I'm from consist of dilligent crack sale
Assisting off the backs of black males
It's innocent, suspending in packed jails that
White well being, niggas catch hell just for being
You might as well have a of crime, ain't nothin free in this life
I stick a nine in ya 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 'cause life's a bitch, and it's too
My sport leather, gold, camoflauge, rugged denim
Deadly in venom, totin buckets nothin in 'em
But Rawkus, some ill for real
Straight with nothin but a taste for kill

(Chorus) 4x

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