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ls one ft. alley-cat - bullets in our heads كلمات الأغنية

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-what we’ve got here is failure to communicate-

as i’m just that man in the hood
mans in the hood
you wonder if i smile
if i could
see theres only one road
for a road man like me
hitting the streets
taking a hit -exhale smoke-
taking a punch
hitting the roads
bring in that dough
on that money makin mode
and then i’ll work on my flow

cos if i wanna provide
or strive and thrive
enough for that drive
thats inside
to a buy a 4/4 drive
swerve and dive
i gotta grind
money affi find
i’m aiming high
i’m on a f-cking high
horse power
skrrr skrrr

watch out
i’m gunna attack
i’m a gunner on crack
might be a notepad
or my strap
is it paper and pen
or getting pen tonight
am i just a writer, or a fighter?
shots fired
at the pm
gunning till i’m dead
and a bullet’s in my head

so we rap
or we trap trap
dripping ice
till you freeze
dripping blood
till we flood
the streets with cheese
greeze
3up my gs, still stackin ps
and smoking trees in block 3
breeze
in the trap house
we’re trapped, mouse trapped
my bruddas all locked up
the skylines are f-cked up
the streets locked off
so its safe for the top 1%
100% p-ss take
burning estates
tower blocks
in f-cking states
when around the block
theresa’s safe in number 10

watch out
i’m gunna attack
i’m a gunner on crack
might be a notepad
or am i in pen tonight
possession with intent
no comment
just a writer, or a fighter?
shots fired
at the pm
gunning till i’m dead
and a bullet’s in her head

shows locked off
faces darker still
ski mask black
cars blacked out
fed up of it
feds sniffing us
like dogs
looking for food
they feed us a lifestyle
refuse for us to express it
share it
you censor it
so f-ck radio gigs
i got youtube hits

and in this war zone
the damage is collateral
left alone
best friends dying
lying in their graves
lying through our teeth
we continue to party
big bag of weed
keep trying to part the red sea
of drying blood
blud this is no man’s land
born to die
but i choose to survive
they don’t care
about our welfare
its all about the paper blocks
and international gun warfare
so its only fair
we have means to protect ourselves
own arms, own war, gang, own p
since they capitalise on us
and our culture
spewed out of their torture
just to sweep us under the carpet
whilst we’re incarcerated

watch out
we’re gunna attack
we’re a gunners on crack
might be a notepad
or a strap
just writers, and fighters
shots fired
at the pm
gunning till we’re dead
and there’s bullets in our heads

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