Paroles Who Gonna Die Next? de Hell Razah & 4th Disciple

Hell Razah & 4th Disciple
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  • Artiste: Hell Razah & 4th Disciple11069
  • Chanson: Who Gonna Die Next?
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Textes et Paroles de Who Gonna Die Next?




[Intro: Hell Razah]
Freedom of Speech, Article One
G.G.O., Sun of Man, Rabbi Razah, do the Knowledge

[Hell Razah]
Daddy was a gangsta, mommy was a hustler
But she fell in love with him, made me a hustler
Born as a ghetto child, raised in the projects
Revolutionaries, who ain't open up they eyes yet
Life of a slave, ain't no tellin' who gon' die next
I came in the '70's, listenin' to melodies
Back when the panthers and the police, was enemies
(Remember niggaz was fightin', even back then)
After Malcolm X dropped that one jewel on Kennedy
We already had the remedy
Aiyo, my mind make the pen bleed
I be the species of the new breed, young black ghetto seed
It's hot, get the anti-freeze, ya'll niggaz hustlin' for panties and weed
Henny and G's, I'm guaranteed to pop off
My single is hot from out of the sleeve, I murder two M.C.'s

[Chorus x2: Hell Razah]
Life in the projects (ain't no tellin' who gon' die next)
Livin' in the hood (ain't no tellin' who gon' die next)
Buildin' with my brother (ain't no tellin' who gon' die next)
Live in the hell hole (ain't no tellin' who gon' die next)

[Hell Razah]
All my brothers raise in peace..
It's Hell in here, fear death row, electric chairs
The time is near, riots in Times Square
We sick of welfare, doing labor in the slaves career afros, no wavy hair
No charity pair, on Black Saladatory Day
We gotta overthrow the government, the Maccabee way
They out to stop my airplane, cuz they fear what I say
But my people got ears, and can't hear what I say
The poor is hated, even by his own neighbors
But the rich have many friends, and traders, ho's and playa haters
Some die, lost they life, cuz of foolish anger
A mad man, only one letter short from danger
We inhabit, live in the land of strangers
Family famin, breakin' every ten commandment
Take ya life for granted, on the Christ's planet
Firin' cannons, cocked at whoever standing
As road blocks to quiet planning
Cops harass us, even though they trespass us
You not allowed to serve two masters
We lost sheep from the lost pastors

[Chorus x2]

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