| We like those gangsta rhymes
|
| Just make sure they don’t corrupt our minds
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| These rappers kill and thieve
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| A lot of times it’s only make believe
|
| Once upon a time, not long ago
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| A rapper got shot, and no one knows
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| Who pulled the trigger on the kid and laid him in his grave
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| And after the prayers and the street parade
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| Shit got forgot, and now he’s dead
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| And all the fans loved everything he said
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| So understand this, you don’t wanna miss
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| Sex, drugs, and violence
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| We like those gangsta rhymes
|
| Just make sure they don’t corrupt our minds
|
| These rappers kill and thieve
|
| A lot of times it’s only make believe
|
| Ayy yo, once upon a time in Jamaica, Queens
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| An icon gets shot, and no one knew what it means
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| It was just another murder scene, but let’s get on with the bling bling
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| Ching-ching and half naked chicks that can’t sing
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| Murder weapon, never found, police, never around
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| The respect, the intellect, and the suspect all out of town
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| It’s all out of bounds. |
| KRS, Chuck D makin our rounds, man
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| While they takin us down, man
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| We’re takin you down. |
| I got another new sound
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| It’s really an old sound, but you know how me and Chuck get down
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| We got peace, love, unity, and having the fun
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| But you all want sex, drugs, violence 101
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| (Here it is, bam!)
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| Stop being a little boy with a little toy, stand up and be a man
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| Now you see the plan, from west to east
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| Instead of sex, drugs, and violence we got love, purpose, and peace
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| We be hurtin' the least, we be workin, no seats
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| Bringing it to America like Geronimo and Cochise
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| Get that, but make sure when you spit rap
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| If you ain’t really ready to die, yo, don’t spit that!
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| We like those gangsta rhymes
|
| Just make sure they don’t corrupt our minds
|
| These rappers kill and thieve
|
| A lot of times it’s only make believe
|
| Once upon a time I was on Long Island
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| A man got shot and he wasn’t smilin'
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| He was bleedin' from his guts, yo
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| A policeman was sittin' and he drove up on the spot, yo
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| Now when police light came on
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| When the man died, who was the blame on?
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| Wasn’t me. |
| Not you
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| I didn’t kill nobody 'cause my records don’t do that
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| I make the records for the kids
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| Gangsta rap flippin' people’s kid’s lids
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| We like those gangsta rhymes
|
| Just make sure they don’t corrupt our minds
|
| These rappers kill and thief
|
| A lot of times it’s only make believe |