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mc paul barman - paul shot ya lyrics
who shot ya? separate the weak from indoctra-nated
time for some deflated egos, it’s off people
dead won’t make you a hero
operation dead negro k!lled a whole bunch of arabs and a sh-tload of honkeys
democrats are a disgrace to donkeys
“what’s that on your neck?”, you better rep that ankh piece
drown your sorrows in a bath tub of soda pop
say “tomorrow it will all be alright.” but tonight you know it’s not
nah, it’ll be alright
no it’s not
maybe it’s because i’m used to things not alright is why i see this
maybe it’s because donald rumsfeld once held my p-n-s
war is some g-y sh-t:
perpetrated by true players in blue blazers bathed in the dark light of self hatred
i’ve heard a whole lot of rappers rhyme over this beat
i’ve heard a lot of rhymers rep for the street
yet i never hear about the people they meet
they don’t observe; they offer no insight
they can’t love music, they hate themselves inside
never listen to n0body else
keeping it real is being yourself
strong stuck to weak like a birth defect
we need ideas not leaders, n0body’s perfect yet
chomsky’s too academic, mc’s are h0m-phobic
we taught n-z-‘s eugenics, brain muscles meet aerobics
“what was that, n-z-‘s?
who’s we? not me
what’s eugenics?”
the science of race
recently disprove whose origins trace
to cali, that hot bed of liberality
voted in a machine of n-z- munic-p-lity
general powell’s son is the fcc
means that you think so but we’re not really free
the circle of life is not work all your life for the man who took your dad’s life’ that’s called slavery
i’m on top of my game like a lifeguard chair
you don’t know nothing, yet you’d like to share
too bad, show and tell’s over
a soldier’s a gopher for a lawyer with a shoulder holster
seeing the truth is an emotional rollercoaster
this is some higher talk
i’m going through my my firewalk
the most recent war was iraq
the next may be syria,
but it sure won’t be saudi arabia, but we’ll get all of it’s neighbors
and we’ll k!ll some babies and some ground troops
they’ll be in the sh-t
that’s not the sh-t meaning good but meaning brown soup
to all my brothers in arms making sick jokes: forgive the sieves they don’t know the big hoax
they’re cloaked in darkness like “who turned the lights out?”
your handwritten kites are censored with wite out
we might have to fight our way out
you can’t join a clique you best start your own right now
since 9-5, motherf-ckers
since 1695, motherf-ckers puff, i think ya said ’nuff
it’s time to shut the pu kucf
i shot ya
got ya open like a chakra
science is knowing not just a degree for a doctor
superficial distinctions make me go batty
gangsters aren’t rebels they just imitate daddy
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