AWA

Is Your God A Dog

Track byPublic Enemy

140
0
  • 1998.06.01
  • 5:08
AWAで聴く

歌詞

Crosstown traffic Black to black You should a seen 'er Long and winding road to the arena Crystal ball I prophesized What was on the horizon Forewarned yall Is it any wonder What kind of ground you goin under A September ender To march madness remember? You never heard a murder Take for example Unsolved mystery Life lost in a funk sample Enter the bandwagons Braggin hangin banners Clearin the way for younger MCs And new hammers What was criticized six years back Is now back With New York on the jersey front and back Feel like Tiger Woods Got madd goods Way up from the cheap seats Comin outta the hood Race to the black seats Amongst the wack seats Be the hardcore Alongside the deadbeats The world lookin on Like spectators At crucified gladiators Feels like a jungle inside Where fish swim birds fly Man got a tendency to die Man falls to the hands of man But damn if i'll ever try To survive at courtside Four tickets to fly Rap or play ball do the game Or duck the drive by Same league that defends Be the same ones that do us in Spys CIA - FBI And them suits in that Corporate sky Eye for an eye The target is the bad guy Heard the war is on >From the announcer Bound to get the crowd Bouncin Yes and it counts and In this corner representin the Best in the west Died from four bullets Two in the chest Worshipped on the other side Of TV sets Had madd fans Comin outta both sex Sold, multi platinum Eight times gold But died of homicide Twenty five years old Heard he died in debt too I ain't seen a winner yet, you? The confused crowd boos The move shit In that corner Number one in the east The peace cursed for life By the mark of the beast Raised by peeps rode jeeps Deep in Brooklyn beats Praised as a hero Who came up off the streets The crowd looks on Claimin sides they don't own A house built up on Their skulls and bones Knew it be a matter of time The play by play Two rappers slain Main So let us pray Wit all the gunnin Crowd goin crazy Gettin bigger Proud to be called a bunch Bitches and niggas The ghetto stage fulla Field nigga goals Hip hop shoot outs vs those house negros Five bodies got on the shot clock Runnin down in the count made The scoreboard rock The referees the LAPD The LVPD Said they couldn't catch What they couldn't see Question Was it bigger than the names Not only in the game But the game behind the game Down to the remaining Seconds of this record Anatomy of a murder Intensity of a mystery Dead and gone As the heads looked on Helpless As the atmosphere preyed on Investigating And the winner be Interscope/UNI Arista/BMG Lost in overtime Da tombstone trophy for people that shit The rhymes that died Beats that deceased Fuck best Rest in peace Chorus Rainy days from stormy nights Though the stars shined Days were bright That was then this is now That was them this is how Rainy days from stormy nights Though the stars shined Days were bright Live and die by the sword Come playoff time Is your lord a god Or is your god a dog?

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