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Pressure
(专辑: After Taxes - 2005)
[girl singing] What do we do Ooooooh what do we do, what do we do Pressure, pressure what do we do to do [Sheek Louch] Let's go They say they want me to chill How you rappin is like you sayin to go out and kill I
hear so much of this nonsense Like brother you a
role model, you supposed to rap like you concious (For what?) Even if that was true, understand I'm a
man before anything, rap is what I
do And I'm somebody's father Like if my baby boy in a
jam I
won't grab the
revolver Sometimes not even that I
ain't sittin around talkin 'bout slavery is holdin me back Out East you would think this the
Western I
don't mean to be rude, but you can chill with all those silly suggestions When the
pressure is on, your morals is gone Can't believe your face is torn (oh!) I
don't condone it, but I'm willin to loan it Just relax, go home, hit me up on the
horn, got you [Chorus: girl singing] For this life... piece of mind The
streets are filled with priiiide Too young to die, so the
bullets fly The
streets are filled with priiiide pressure, pressure [Sheek Louch] I
know she tryin to be cool for her friends I
know he tryin to front for her in the
Benz (yeah) But he ain't watchin where he drivin and drunk (uh-uh) Hit somebody whip and dude talkin 'bout poppin the
trunk But can't go out like a
punk (nah) Shots go off, and his friends no longer think that he's soft (brrap) Now it's time for the
bail And momma got a
slight heart problem cause her son is in jail (damn) And no one's keepin it real (uh-uh) The
lawyers is riffin, block phone calls, messages skippin And shorty don't even visit She too busy in the
mall with your re-up money, tryin to live it When he come out shit he flipped Cause his son is in the
backseat with some other nigga pushin his whip (That's my son) This kind of pressure for real Got at least like 6
out of 10 blacks sittin in jail, damn [Chorus] [Sheek Louch] This brother comin from work (yeah) 9
to 5, minimum wage, his boss is a
jerk He can't stand bein broke (uh-uh) He get off the
bus to get him a
beer and somethin to smoke He think about gettin coke His family is hungry, it's dead real, no longer a
joke But he ain't made for the
streets This ain't back then, these lil' dudes now carryin heat Think he can pump where he want, it's the
first of the
month Makin mad sales right in the
front (what?) Duke and them gettin mad (yo whattup?) things startin to get bad 'Bout to follow homey home to his pad (him right there) But he can't let that ride He pull out the
thing and tell his baby momma go in and hide (Get the
baby in the
house) So many put on a
stretcher I'm willin to bet'cha, it's the
pressure, c'mon [Chorus] [girl singing] The
streets are filled with priiiiide
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