DEAD PREZ

DEAD PREZ - Hip-Hop lyrics

rate me

[Intro]

Uh, Uh, Uh, 1, 2, 1, 2

Uh, Uh, 1, 2, 1, 2, uh, uh

All my dogs

[hook]

It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip

It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop, hip hop, hip hop

[Verse 1]

Uh, one thing 'bout music, when it hit you feel no pain

white folks says it controls your brain

I know better than that, that's game and we ready for that

Two soldiers head of the pack, matter of fact who got the gat?

And where my army at?

Rather attack and not react

Back the beats, it don't reflect on how many records get sold

On sex, drugs, and rock and roll, whether your project's put on hold

In the real world, these just people with ideas

They just like me and you when the smoke and camera disappear

Again the real world (world), it's bigger than all these fake ass records

When poor folks got the millions and my woman's disrespected

If you check 1,2, my word of advice to you is just relax

Just do what you got to do, if that don't work then kick the facts

If you a fighter, rider, ?bout'er?, flame ignitor, crowd exciter

Or you wanna just get high, then just say it

But then if you a liar-liar, pants on fire, wolf-cry agent with a wire

I'm gonna know it when I play it

[Hook]

[Verse 2]

Uh, who shot Biggie Smalls?

If we don't get them, they gonna get us all

I'm down for runnin' up on them crackers in they city hall

We ride for y'all, all my dogs stay real

Nigga don't think these record deals gonna feed your seeds

And pay your bills because they not

MC's get a little bit of love and think they hot

Talkin' bout how much money they got, all y'all records sound the same

I sick of that fake thug, R & B, rap scenario all day on the radio

Same scenes in the video, monotonous material, y'all don't here me though

These record labels slang our tapes like dope

You can be next in line, and signed, and still be writing rhymes and broke

You would rather have a Lexus, some justice, a dream or some substance?

A Beamer, a necklace or freedom?

Still a nigga like me don't playa' hate, I just stay awake

This real hip hop, and it don't stop until we get the po-po off the block

They call it....

[hook]

Uh, DP's got that crazy shit we keep it crunk up

John Blaze'd and shit what

[repeat]

Fake, fake, fake records

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found