Lyrics:
getting ourselves outta sight
You the only man I know I could trust by my side but
You sold your weed and then you fleed, no problems with the police
to police brutality
Silver and Gold
What do I owe
I’m just on the road
Had to get up and go
None do I owe
Pocket so low
But it’s not enough
Have to settle
in disguise
With no consequences the murders will continue
Over one-hundred-and-seventy people of all races
Have been murdered by police in Portland
make a move
Then body them
Rich should arm the poor to armor them
2nd amendment that a sponsor them
Any die then we a martyr them
As the sons
keeps your heart on the run.
I met that cat in a two-bit juke-joint:
Took my money in a game of pool.
Next thing I knew, I was sittin' 'hind
back
Look through the tint recognized a jack
Two brothers strolled up
Talkin' bout get out
Donald D blazed
Shot one fool through his fuckin' mouth
Mic check, mic check
One (one), two (two), three (three)
Too many rappers, and there's still not enough MCs
It goes three (three), two (two
hun hun hahaa)
(X2)
Where you at ? In the trap, I be selling at (where you at dawg) (trap house)
Bitch niggas talking shit, they be ratting
armed time
Sick, sick, sick eyes from the nose pressure
Police snip, zip ties on the protesters
Six wives in the fry of a molester
Met him at a caviar
Awhh yeah
Break me off some of the real players shit
What's up motherfuckers? This is Khayree
And I posted at this here
Spot with 2Pac, Mac-Mall
Ray
my well being
I used to hurry up and sell fee (2 for 5!)
Like I ain't worried for the jail scene (fuck cops)
'Til I got knocked, yeah observed in my
attach because I'm winning
Check the score
Up by a hunnid and some mo
Even tho the police looking for my nigga high and low
Glock blast do the dash all my
Courage of others
How do we measure courage?
Every time I see someone in military uniform I always thank them for their service.
My dad served two
plantation
Enforced by a surveillance police state
Beware, beware imposed serfdom
Beware, beware imposed serfdom
Robotics and machinery
Could tip the scales
to the neighborhood
As we're walking there, my buddy and I get passed real slow by two cops in a squad car
Sure enough they pull a U-turn and stop us, asking us where
Mr. Officer
written by: H. Bright, R. Testa, J. Johnson
produced by: Bright Lights
tag
Woop woop, I hear the police coming.
Woop woop, I hear
slipped
The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped
Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by
You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out,
[Freddie Foxx]
Mic check 1-2, strap it up, load the beat, cock the mic
And your rhyme better be fat, or you might have to fight
Yeah, there`s no
Wet up, you a think he at the beach how he collecting shells
I was at his crib the police just rode by he got saved by the bell
Niggas hoes or is
Tell the motherfuckin' police pick me up
I got them youngins goin' crazy, tryna blitz something
Mad man, nigga don't hear no talkin' when Lil Top come
like, drive by pumpin' that lean back
Police hop out of the whip, (?) right in my six
Four fifth tucked right on his hip
Some dumb drunk, this nigga
talkin' 'bout cheddar
Brought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen
Four swordsmen, from the land of the lost
Ras Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt
FUCK y'all niggaz talkin' bout cheddar
[Ras] Brought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen
[Can] Four swordsmen
[Ras] From the land
more spacious
And two rollies dipped in gold faces
And two girls that's known to switch places
Ready let's get that
Let's get that let's go
Lemme know if
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