Luyện nghe bài hát Sharp Shooters

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

(stic.man)
Everything is politics,I CHIN, Kweli, army, you know 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 this revolution, fuck a earner,
See I be what Wilkes Booth was to Lincoln, blam!
Sirhan Sirhan, peepin through the curtains my eyes on a Kennedy
Dead prez, politic, know your enemy, keep your toast
Because power come 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 for the po-po (woop woop) and train at the dojo
Not a gun Deniro but a working hero
Takin a stand, like a panther with an M-1
know 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 protects me and makes the jakes respect me
Yo, I'm one with my gun, I love it like my son
It me and makes sure the jakes respect me

(Talib Kweli)
do you do
when the police in your door like 'get on the floor'
you in the back
cause who you are and you at's against the law
You try to protect your home the illest arsenal possible
Learn how to heal yourself and stop with them hospitals
Get with brothas down for the cause givin it all got
But every brother ain't a brother (word), fuck around and get
By these black kings pack gatlings
to make a rat sing Nat King
Before they start (blow!)
no accuracy, handling they beef in the public
Now an innocent child got a bag for a
Property value plumit time a shot is fired (c'mon)
People betrayed so they take the street to riot
Cops fire shots and try to stop the spirit over the entire block
Politicians say it's to march
But people is that, ready 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, Kweli with dead prez,
(Blow blow)

(stic.man)
I'm in the runs
where all that niggas give a fuck about is funds
The black and young type that's 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, survival of the brain and scheme
For cream you know the game in my
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 cock and tenniments
My flex 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 young black
It's innocent, suspending in packed that benefit
White well being, while niggas catch just for being
You might as well have a life of crime, ain't free in this life
I stick a nine in ya for mine
No time for talk, I walk when I talk
Stalkin sidewalks of with the eyes of a hawk
Crack a quart to get away from this trife world and
Puffin 'cause life's a bitch, and it's too short
My sport leather, gold, camoflauge, rugged denim
Deadly in venom, totin buckets with in 'em
But Rawkus, some ill for real
hustlas with nothin but a taste for kill

(Chorus) 4x

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