Текст песни
He's out late at night if he's got his Head on right. Well, I'll lay you nine to five he's walking With steel Under his... Gun for gun, streets filled rivers of Blood. Raised in the PJ's with real niggas and Thugs. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, Blood for blood. Coming to a theater near you, It's on lock. Gun for gun, streets filled with Rivers of blood. Raised in the PJ's with real Niggas and thugs. I make Mussolini wear a kufi. I talk like Dr. Ben but look like Malcolm Holding his Uzi. Peering through curtains, who would Murder? Pearl Silas to screw on my burner. .44 caliber, the new Nat Turner. I make Hitler wear a yarmulke. KKK celebrate Kwanzaa, should I pursue further? I'm like Toot and Common with the tools in My garment. Put a few in my conscience, The moon and the stars lit. Light up the hood, it looks like a techno Club. We slam dance to this music when the Tech blow slugs. It's ghetto thugs, Welfare and poor education. And gang love sitting in the federal waiting room. For gun, streets filled with rivers of blood. Raised in the PJ's with real niggas and thugs. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, blood For blood. Coming to a theater near you, it's On lock. What did Malcolm think split second 'fore He was shot? Did he think to hit the Deck on the floor before he dropped? Or did he just say, "Fuck it, I'ma die For my brothers"? 'Cause by killing him just made His words teach others. Like Martin Luther King, he Preached peace, they still got him. Like the West, East beef, finally that shit is Rotten. Place yourself in the shoes of a people's Leader. From drug kingpin to president, either is Off the meter. Your best man can turn into Squeezer, burn you and leave you. Beside a lonely road or inside a meat freezer. That's the way it goes on the third rock From the sun. A lone circle in the light Where we begun. Where we become a follower to A general with soldiers that run. They move off every word of your tongue. Fearless and ruthless when you was young pulling Your gun. Not scared to shoot shit, remember it Was all in the fun? Is this power you Wanted? Can you control over a hundred minds? And these are grown men who killed over a Hundred times. Every champ team has an archrival. And it takes one time to mess up and Niggas don't like you. You start to want peace, Niggas want you deceased. Your money low, niggas Want you to go. Who else but God could Bring the most haunting flow? You're soon to see the best of me. From a boy man to a king, hear out My destiny. Gun for gun, streets filled with rivers Of blood. Raised in the PJ's with real niggas And thugs. Eye for an eye, tooth for a Tooth, blood for blood. Coming to a theater near you, it's on lock. I'm diving in a world of words, thinking about My literacy. Energy to get beyond the birds. Still I clone MC's. Fraudulent audiences with they fraudulent feed. These fraudulent MC's gon' drain a river of blood, Nigga, as I watch them bleed. I look to the clouds, grip my mic. Like seventeen swords and slice and slice. What I feel is everything just ain't real. You ain't the streets. What, you got heat? You gon' shoot him, Gon' shoot me. You bigger than every other G I seen. M16, got clips, got beams. This is Sleepy Hollow, I got Roscoe's. I got hollows, I got pile loads of hollows And hollow stock holds. Got rhymes equivalent to Glock loads. I got one in the chamber and seventeen in The clip. Dip, chip, pop, roll, born from the Boat. Born in the East, raised in the West Coast. You niggas is bread, 'bout to be toast. I'm too true and I do the most. Tec, two semi-Tecs. Look me in my eyes, splurging, trained insane to The membrane, brain surgeon. Sleep then slept. Once I came in, the oxygen left. I can't help it if you can't catch a Breath. I'm a horseman since eight, Nine, or ten. I'ma throw at 'em 'bout eight, Nine, or ten. I to the L to the L to the W. The I to the L to the L to Bring drama to all. Gun for gun, streets filled with rivers of blood. Raised in the PJ's with real niggas and thugs. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, blood For blood. Coming to a theater near you, it's On lock. Nigga, what up? Priest. Mase, Jack, Al Jones. Yeah. Yo, son, what up, what up?
Kurupt, Killa Priest of Wu Tang, Nas — Gun 4 Gun Remix
«Gun 4 Gun Remix» — Kurupt, Killa Priest of Wu Tang, Nas. Читайте текст песни и подпевайте с караоке-подсветкой: строки текста подсвечиваются в такт музыке. Слушайте онлайн бесплатно или скачайте mp3. Длительность записи — 4:02. Жанр — Рэп и хип-хоп.
