P.R. TERRORIST

P.R. TERRORIST - Fear lyrics

rate me

"Hey now" [repeated throughout the song]

[Intro: P.R. Terrorist]

Come on Henry, roll the fuckin' dice

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, real good

Tera Iz Him, yea, what the deal, baby boy Just'

How you feel my nigga? Yeah, Killarm', Killarm'

Yeah, bout to get real fuckin' grimey

[Chorus: P.R. Terrorist]

Niggas run from the fear in they heart

The fear of the gun spark, the fear of the dark

The fear of the NARC's, the fear of the parked cars

And parked vans in front of they house

Scanners hangin' out they back, yo, niggas sellin' crack

[P.R. Terrorist]

D.J.'s spinnin' wax in the clubs

Everybody's thugs, everybody's rockin' colors, nobody's brothers any more

Why not? Everybody wanna fall, nobody standin' tall like a brick wall

Got my balls sweaty, battery charged up like Ever Ready

Forever ready, more cards than Mirror Freddie

Before I go, the world, they gon' forget me

Left two girls behind, both look like me

Promoter throwin' the show, don't wanna invite me

How can a God be righteous, when they say I'm sheisty

I tell you why... because it's me, me, wonderful me

Dom P, G.O.D., represent to the T

Represent for my niggas on the M.I.C., N.Y.C.

[Chorus]

[P.R. Terrorist]

Catch me in the back, countin' the money stack

Where it at, niggas is rollin' dice (4, 5, 6)

Think twice when you come around the hood, cuz niggas ain't no good

It's just an actual fact, sleep wit a fat black mack, and keep my gear intact

Cuz the bitches do love me, can't forget about them

Plus can't forget about the way they made me cum

Had two daughters while I was workin' on my son

Got questioned by jakes, while I was on the run

Made mad cheddar, while I was on the run

Bust mad guns, while I was on the run

Must say rest in peace, to my nigga Pun, Pun... rest in peace

[Chorus x2]

[P.R. Terrorist]

Dont' make me, choke you to death, you fake muthafucka

Hands out your pocket, don't make me pull the eye shutter

Straight from the gutter, where I was born and raised

Nowadays shit be seemin' like we trapped in a cage

We got, gates that are twelve feet high, wit curl blades

Never had shit, tell you right now, that crime pays

Spanish rap cat, wit gats and razor blades

Handglide off the building, my wings and my shoulder blades

Straight flyin', stroll through the hood, holdin' an iron

No lying, snakes are cunnivin', niggas is spyin'

The Earth's cryin', and my thorn bush roses are dyin'

Bows are fryin' from hell's heat, these mean streets got me buggin'

What the deal, cousin?

[Chorus]

[Outro: P.R. Terrorist]

This how it is around the way, knawhatimean?

Terrorist shit, knowhatimsayin'?

Islord, 'Bandz, 9th Prince, Beretta 9, ShoGun the Assason

4th Disciple, Dainja Mental, Killa Sin, Wannabeez, yeah

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