Lyrics:
popular immorality
Sympathy disease head, population misled
Self indulgent past dead, absence of the God head
Pimps, pushers and harlotry
Nepotism, no
at?
Where them dimes at?
Where them dimes at?
Where where them dimes at?
Where where them dimes at?
The ill whip pusher, my spit wet ya
by who hustle pass
Men they take make am,
Cause if na by that
Wheel barrow pusher na hard worker ooooh’
Nwanne no be by that
No be by power to make
Track Title - AIRBORNE
Album Title- “R & R: ALPHA”
(a SurvivalMode Music & Media Production/Joint Task Production)
mixed & mastered by: G.U.S.
Oh-oh
Lelelelelelé
Oh-oh
Lelelelé
In giro con le Beats By Dre
Rap serio nell'mp3
Cori allo stadio con i frè
In botta di hashish dal Maghreb
In giro
My my my my my my ghetto
My ghetto got pimps and pushers
And big money makers
And shakers and fakers and
All the crack makers
And they all live in
Still breathing, by a thread still holding on
So I walk the same way home each night
To find that back alley pusher and take his life
And I ain't
corruption is no crime
From down below
TO THE TOP
Corruption rules this system
Where the only thing that counts
Is gaining power day by day
We are wasting our
different
Real trench nigga, all I hang around murderers and dope dealers (yeah)
Real deal P pusher (yeah)
Real bad ho fucker (yeah)
Real deal wife taker
crafty
Sack pusher, yeah, baby, I'm a heartbreaker
All that rap cap sound good, but they pump fakin'
Risk takin', where it's at? Know your spot got
Harley hardly could ever really make it by
Going to school for psychology working part-time
As a jester bouncy house parties always smiles
Despite
to my microphone and preach on
Brother, that's that bullshit in my right arm
Crackhead stop it, dope pusher stop it
The father sent me a message and I
shit, but I was born in '83
Wait and see, I'm rockin' things that get me crazy V
Hardheaded like a Nubian ibex
Write raps for pushers wit Pyrex,
The shadows flicker by
He's the madcap pusher
Delerium the drug he's dealing
He drops a capsule in your drink
And spikes your dreams with madness
to show his feelings
He was a pig-tail puller in grammer school
Left back twice by the seventh grade
Sniffing glue in Junior High
And the first one in
my life slip by across your face
There's an ocean on land. There's a plan. There's a plan.
There's a fifty-foot tower running power over sand.
shmoosh us, just to packing the pushers
I'm packing gat then bust a cap at po-po
If they catch us and try to push us
Since when a MINY nigga don't be taking
powder
People hanging in spots
They waited until the blocks got hot
And got raided by the cops
I'll explain the man sleeping in the rain
His whole
the butcher
The pick-a-booger-at-your-wake is bumping "I'm your pusher"
Also at your wake, Juvenile Intruders at the gate
Brooding over waking history that
And you love it, 76 inches of sound
So ya'll could dig me six feet deep
My eyes'll still be over ground
Now, I've got myself circlin'
Over these pushers
them all until she lost her sense
Sold to her by the pushers and pimps
And paid by the cost of her innocence
She walked the streets at night
To earn
minimum wage
I feel played, we still chained
They manipulate our minds by design
Then place our bodies in a steel cage
We still plague by a system, set up
I'm Saved
Down and dirty street by the old schoolyard
With the pimps and the pushers where the girls are hard
I was taking care of self
will see the drive
What I'm driven by
Your gift getting money
And flexing muscule
The Hunger The Hustle
Merchandise traders
Product for consumer
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