Текст песни Gem Star's - Black Market Militia
(Intro:
Killah
Priest
(Tragedy
Khadafi))
Yeah,
pass
that
(word
up,
word
up
Word
up,
haha,
that
shit
feel
good
right?
Knowhatimean?)
Yeah
(Gem
Star
the
Regime,
straight
up
Black
Market
the
revolution)
Yeah
(Both
sides
of
the
coins)
Inside
of
this
(You
understand
what
we
talkin'
bout?)
Uh-huh
(We
giving
y'all
fair
warning)
(Tragedy
Khadafi)
Hot
lead
bust
through
iron
pipes
Blood
drips
from
the
corner
of
young
thug's
mouth,
the
hood
life
His
torn
flesh,
and
his
last
bit
of
breath
Pulses,
over
death
fless,
homicide
hover
like
vultures
Married
the
game,
now
the
Earth's
dirty
and
dulgis
Should
of
seen
him
though,
niggaz
though
his
heart
was
the
coldest
Left
two
seeds,
little
son
Rod
was
the
oldest
Two
baby
mothers,
blowing
guns,
duckin'
under
covers
And
his
motto
was,
no
one
in
this
whole
world
love
us
From
the
womb
to
the
tomb,
presumed
the
youth's
scars
Soul
on
ice,
tears
of
a
killer,
behind
bars
When
you
curse
God,
streets
is
a
gangsta's
graveyard
My
advice,
in
the
meantime,
to
you,
is
play
hard
It's
real,
when
you
deal
with
the
cards
you
dealt
It's
not
real,
when
your
seeds
feel
the
pain
you
felt
Break
the
curse,
disciple,
nigga,
pave
the
way
It
ain't
gangsta,
when
your
seeds
go
lay
in
the
same
grave
Then
die
in
the
same
hood,
bleed
on
the
same
corner
The
game's
over,
all
of
my
niggaz,
have
fair
warning
Fair
warning...
lie's
life
(Killah
Priest)
My
rhymes
a
guideline,
for
political
thugs
and
O.G.'s
Who
blows
trees
in
front
of
authorities,
like
giving
a
fuck
Revolvers
will
squeeze,
regardless
to
the
warrants
you
read
Trauma
we
bleed,
before
they
put
our
wrists
in
them
cuffs
I
sit
in
the
cut,
like
I'm
sixty
two,
and
next
Panther
Narrator,
screen
writer
for
niggaz
in
handcuffs
Gangstas
are
freedom
fighters
doing
life
in
the
slammers
Where
the
strangers
take
advantage,
when
they
tie
bananas
And
I
thank
you,
what
the
knife
til
we
collide
with
them
hammers
Phantoms,
they
talk
before
we
sell
them
Cats
yell
from
they
gut,
the
shells
come
and
their
skeleton
struck
How
I
survive
that
four/five,
well
I
tell
'em
it's
luck
Fellas
erupt,
at
chow
time,
shots
heard
from
a
loud
nine
Fitted
turbans,
we
feast
and
beneath
her
loud
signs
I
don't
care,
we
cripple
you
blood
When
cops
come,
get
rid
of
them
drugs
For
revolution,
grab
that
mask,
pistol
and
glove
This
is
the
love,
black
oils
richer
than
blood
I'm
sick
of
the
grudge,
between
vice
laws
and
G.D.'s
Latin
Kings
and
Mieta's,
it's
that
real
shit,
that
hood
lecture
(William
Cooper)
Your
future's
outlined
in
chalk,
when
you
tangle
with
dope
If
you
know
what
they
risking,
they
eventually
choke
I
put
the
flames
to
the
smoke,
your
body
leaks
til
y'all
soap
Black
Market's
the
vote,
now
we
that
uncooked
coke
That
smuggled
in
on
boats,
dippin'
DEA
coats
Poppin'
up
like
toast,
so
don't
play
me
too
close
The
FBI
and
the
Mob
be
like
the
Bloods
and
the
Crips
Seems
like
the
root
of
all
evil,
leads
to
government
chips
It's
better
to
slip
with
the
foot,
then
slip
with
the
tongue
Flash
both
sides
of
the
coin,
then
the
Yin
and
Yang
forms
Keep
it
straight,
black
and
white,
with
no
gray
in
my
zone
Stand
on
top
of
my
word,
what
I
gave
is
my
soul
So
who
do
I
owe?
Dug
myself
up
out
of
a
hole
And
while
y'all
fightin'
for
gold,
I'm
fight
the
NWO
Since
twelve
years
old,
I'se
nowhere
to
get
a
burner
Because
the
breath
of
the
devil,
have
you
huggin'
the
corner
(Chorus
2X:
Killah
Priest)
And
in
the
hood,
we
spit
gem
star's
Givin'
you
fair
warnings,
for
life
lectures
Puttin
holes
in
your
tecture
Only
two
ways
to
go,
parole
or
the
stretcher
We'd
rather
be
on
our
thrones,
holdin'
our
chesters
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