Luyện nghe bài hát Sharp Shooters

Artist Talib Kweli & Dead
Sharp 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 and Bibles
Heard the name, started changin the
Now instead of Chaka call me Nat with the burner
Freedom fighter for revolution, fuck a wage earner,
See I be what Wilkes Booth was to Lincoln, blam!
Sirhan Sirhan, through the curtains with my eyes on a Kennedy
Dead prez, politic, know your enemy, keep your close
Because political power from the barrel of it
We in a war, nigga it or love 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 an M-1 Garrand
Screamin know gun laws, self defense is a must
we set it off I'm a be the first to bust

(Chorus - prez)
Yo, I'm one my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes me
Yo, I'm one with my gun, I it like my first 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'
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
Learn how to heal yourself and stop fuckin them hospitals
Get with brothas down for the cause it all they got
But every brother ain't a brother (word), fuck and get shot
By these kings that pack gatlings
to make a rat sing like Nat
they start blasting (blow!)
With no accuracy, handling beef 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 block
say it's time to march
But people is past that, ready to blast at whatever
From the master or from the office, niggas is of runnin
Yeah, all my soldier, it up, c'mon, now
(Bust ya guns) yeah, Kweli with 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 type packin automatic guns
If any static sparatic shots'll ring out
You get caught up, you get your brains blown clean out
The killers supreme, survival of the illest brain and scheme
For cream you know the in my vein
I feel the pain for all the niggas that away
Tryin to get the fastest way we know how, the old fashion way
Blastin, we like cock tecs and tenniments
My squad flex if any pop, and put an end to it
It's like hell, this planet I'm from of dilligent crack sale
Assisting off the of young black males
innocent, suspending in packed jails that benefit
White well being, while niggas hell just for being
You might as well have a life of crime, ain't nothin in this life
I stick a nine in ya for mine
No time for talk, 'cause I when I talk
Stalkin of course with the eyes of a hawk
Crack a quart to get away from 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, totin 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
where you at, yo