album cover
artist
Talib Kweli & Dead Prez
Sharp Shooters
6,610
투어 중
Pop
Sharp Shooters은(는) 앨범에 수록된 곡으로 2002년 1월 1일일에 Rawkus Entertainment에서 발매되었습니다.Lyricist Lounge Volume 2
album cover
앨범Lyricist Lounge Volume 2
발매일2002년 1월 1일
라벨Rawkus Entertainment
멜로디에 강한 음악
어쿠스틱 악기 중심
발랑스
춤추기 좋은 음악
에너지
BPM92

개요

가사

크레딧

실연 아티스트
Talib Kweli
Talib Kweli
보컬
Dead Prez
Dead Prez
보컬
작곡 및 작사
Dead Prez
Dead Prez
작사가 겸 작곡가
Hi-Tek
Hi-Tek
작사가 겸 작곡가
Lavonne Alford
Lavonne Alford
작사가 겸 작곡가
Talib Kweli
Talib Kweli
작사가 겸 작곡가
프로덕션 및 엔지니어링
Hi-Tek
Hi-Tek
프로듀서

가사

[Verse 1]
Everything is politics
I Ching
Kweli
People Army
You know it
[Verse 2]
The white man came to Africa with rifles and Bibles
Heard the name, started changin' the titles
Now instead of Chaka, call me Nat Turner with the burner
Freedom fighter for this revolution, fuck a wage earner
See, I be what John Wilkes Booth was to Lincoln, blam
Sirhan Sirhan, peepin' through the curtains with my eyes on a Kennedy
Dead Prez, politic, know your enemy
Keep your toast close
Because political power come from the barrel of it
We in a war, ****, leave it or love it
Since they got us in a scope, like a P.E. logo
I watch for the po-po (Woop woop) and train at the dojo
Not a gun Deniro, but a working class hero
Takin' a stand, like a Panther with an M-1 Garand
Screamin', "Know your gun laws, self-defense is a must"
When we set it off, I'mma be the first to bust
[Verse 3]
Yo, I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
[Verse 4]
What do you do?
When the police kick in your door like, "Get on the floor"
Shoot you in the back 'cause who you are and where you at's against the law
You try to protect your home with the illest arsenal possible
Learn how to heal yourself and stop fuckin' with them hospitals
Get with brothas down for the cause, givin' it all they got
But every brother ain't a brother (Word), fuck around and get shot
By these black kings that pack Gatlings
To make a rat sing like Nat King before they start blastin' (Blow)
With no accuracy, handlin' they beef in the public
Now an innocent child got a bag for a stomach
Property value plummet every time a shot is fired (C'mon)
People feelin' betrayed, so they take the street to riot
Cops fire shots and try to stop the spirit, takin' over the entire block
Politicians say it's time to march
But people is past that, ready to blast at whatever comin'
From the master or for office, **** is sick of runnin'
[Verse 5]
Yeah, all my soldiers raise it up, c'mon, now
(Bust ya guns) Yeah, Kweli with Dead Prez, c'mon
(Blow, blow, blow)
[Verse 6]
I'm deep in the runs
Where all that **** give a fuck about is stackin' funds
The black and young type that's packin' automatic guns
If any static comes, sporadic shots'll ring out
You get caught up, you get your fuckin' brains blown clean out
The killers reign supreme, survival of the illest brain and scheme
For cream, you know the game in my vein
I feel the pain for all the **** that passed away
Tryna get cash the fastest way we know how, the old fashion way
Blastin', we actin' like cock Tecs and tenements
My squad flex if any shit pop, and put an end to it
It's like hell, this planet I'm from consist of diligent crack sale
Assistin' off the backs of young black males
It's innocent, suspendin' in packed jails that benefit
White well-bein' when **** catch hell just for bein'
You might as well have a life of crime
Ain't nothin' free in this life, I stick a nine in ya spine for mine
No time for talk 'cause I walk when I talk
Stalkin' sidewalks, of course, with the eyes of a hawk
Crack a quart to get away from this trife world and thought
Puffin' Newports 'cause life's a bitch, and it's too short
My crew sport leather, gold, camouflage, rugged denim
Deadliest venom, totin' buckets with nothin' in 'em
But ruckus, some ill muthafuckas for real
Straight hustlas with nothin' but a taste for kill
[Verse 7]
I stay one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
[Verse 8]
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
I'm one with my gun, I love it like my first son
It protects me and makes sure the jakes respect me
[Verse 9]
Yeah, c'mon
All my soldiers
Brooklyn, where you at?
Florida, Cincinnati, where you at?
Africa, where you at? Yo

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