The Coup - Pork and Beef lyrics

rate me

(featuring T-Kash)

Coup, yeah

It's all good man, we off in the Oakland Hills

Dodging em' one time, check it out

[Hook x2]

If you got beef with C-O-P's

Throw a Molotov at the P-I-G's

Cause they be harassing you and me

Ya gotta understand we still not free

[T-Kash]

Don't trust the police, no justice no peace

They got me face down, in the middle of the street

Pistol whip me with the heat, chicken shits sizzling

Trying to serve me the all-you-can eat murder beef

I'm a young, black, heterosexual male

Don't drink no drank, don't smoke, don't sale

That's the real reason that they want me up in jail

They want me to fail, I resist and rebel

See I give a fuck about the C-O-P's

P-I-G's I wonder if I can shake em' like a P-I-T

Cause they wanna see me D-I-E

Got me cash under mob, I'm a pre-O.G.

Dark Sobe associates, vicious, venomous vocalist

Chrome 4-4 toting, holding it down for Oakland

Folks do be smoking and shit we do what we holding

Some just don't notice they get demoted

Throw em' all the time music

[Hook x2]

[* Pam the Funkstress scratching *]

[Boots]

This is for them ladies with them empty plates

For that raise ripped that you didn't calculate

If you ever in your life been awarded to state

On the corner with cake

If they send an undercover and you tip the bag, huh

Next time I see em' with no hesitation

I'm peeling off like stolen registration

And leave a lot of smoke

See I'm that sort of folk

That been pig hunting since my mama's fucking water broke

Cause they the henchmen nah they the lenchmen

Between the rich and puffs of weed known to trench them

Cause they dispense with the dollars and cents

So when you stand go get candles, flowers, and incense

Behind steel gates is fifty percent of our bill rates

A pre-kin making microchips for Bill Gates

Pelican Bay, t-shirts for the workout

Police station where the slave catchers lurk out

Listen to the thunder, I'm no more taking under routes

We'll synchronize and give em' shit to wonder bout

The DEA pennis breath is filthy, yell not guilty

We need control of the cash and the realty

And get rid of all the motherfucking parasites

More than weed burn at 420 Fahrenheit

Shaking in they boots when we start to bust

They ain't scared of rap music, they scared of us

[Hook x2]

Thanks to jim for these lyrics