Lyrics Pressure - Sheek Louch
(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
1 Intro
2 Street Music
3 On The Road Again
4 Pain
5 45 Min To Broadway
6 One Name
7 Guess Who (interlude)
8 Maybe If I Sing
9 Devine
10 Kiss Your Ass Goodbye (Remix)
11 Do Not Interupt
12 Run Up
13 Get Up Stand Up
14 Pressure
15 Movie Niggas
16 Juice Bar (interlude)
17 All Fed Up
18 Get Money
19 Kiss Your Ass Goodbye
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