Текст песни Revolution - Max B
It′s
the
revolution,
baby
Oh,
they
televising
this
shit
right
now
(It's
my
boy
Masar
on
the
beat)
(DJ
Elyes)
Life
in
the
pen′,
never
that
They
came
back
for
the
base,
we
came
with
the
better
crack
I
came
to
provide
the
people
better
tracks
The
narratives
I
engage,
20
years
in
the
cage
20
years
as
a
slave,
ni-ni-nigga
please
Hang
me
from
bigger
trees
Play
me,
my
trigger
squeeze
Ecstasy
liquor
chase,
pay
me
or
get
the
ease
Watching
him
plead
his
case,
spray
'em
or
get
the
cheese
How
could
you
fuck
with
niggas
that
been
from
the
jump?
I
got
a
drawer
full
of
ammo,
I
got
a
sawed
off
pump
I
got
my
niggas,
I
activate
'em,
they
come
with
a
phone
call
Bust
at
the
opposition,
he
die,
it′s
his
own
fault
Gambled
your
life,
nigga,
you
reap
what
you
sow
They
send
some
killers
to
come
and
get
me,
I
reach
for
the
four
I
signal
left
in
the
V
like
they
ain′t
heard
of
the
Don
yet
Connections
is
overseas,
murderous
contacts
If
it's
a
genie
in
the
bottle,
then
she
better
be
a
model
Got
a
dollar
to
my
name,
I′ma
bet
it
on
the
lotto
We
was
playing
in
the
sin,
now
we
playing
in
the
wind
'Cause
if
I
could
do
it
over,
I′ma
do
this
shit
again
My
nigga,
please,
I'll
trade
you
my
bitches
for
some
weed
(come
on)
60
of
some
liquor,
my
music
is
a
disease
Nigga,
freeze,
put
your
hands
where
I
can
see
They
were
fed
the
wrong
description
and
it
wasn′t
even
me
I
go
soft,
I
go
hard,
take
a
look
at
all
my
scars
Frederick
Douglas,
Adam
Clayton,
Malcolm
X
Boulevard
I
ain't
never
pull
the
trigger,
sipping
brown
sugar
liquor
Even
mama
call
me
bigger,
make
my
money,
say
it,
nigga
All
the
women,
all
the
weed
Watermelon
spitting
seeds
And
these
bitches
not
my
children,
feel
neglected
enemy
Bowing
down,
spit
the
grit
In
my
town,
this
the
shit
This
a
gift
Yeah,
this
a
gift
Yeah,
this
a
hit
Now
every
single
time
that
the
police
come
for
a
nigga
I
gotta
run
and
take
cover,
they
tryna
gun
for
a
nigga
They
wanna
kill
us
in
cold
blood,
leave
us
in
bloody
streets
The
prophecy
I
fulfill
top
of
the
money
reach
Choppers,
we
gon'
conceal,
pockets
is
on
E
And
every
time
I
drop,
I′m
the
hottest
thing
on
the
streets
(hottest
thing,
baby)
We
was
looting,
niggas
tried
And
I
had
a
of
hell
of
a
team,
but
a
couple
niggas
died
And
we
was
in
no
Gucci
stores,
couple
niggas
buy
it
Some
hammers
and
DVDs,
couple
of
′em
fried
The
witnesses
on
the
stand,
couple
of
'em
lied
They
want
me
to
take
a
plea,
some
pull
up
and
hide
The
Bentley
pull
up
and
swerve,
some
pull
up
and
glide
She
fuck
with
them
BNBs,
I
look
at
the
sky
Them
fuckers
they
think
could
see
me,
I
pull
out
the
.9
Leave
them
fuckers
nice
and
dreamy
and
send
′em
up
to
die
I
go
soft,
I
go
hard,
take
a
look
at
all
my
scars
Frederick
Douglas,
Adam
Clayton,
Malcolm
X
Boulevard
I
ain't
never
pull
the
trigger,
sipping
brown
sugar
liquor
Even
mama
call
me
bigger,
make
my
money,
say
it,
nigga
All
the
women,
all
the
weed
Watermelon
spitting
seeds
And
these
bitches
not
my
children,
feel
neglected
enemy
Bowing
down,
spit
the
grit
In
my
town,
this
the
shit
This
a
gift
Yeah,
this
a
gift
Yeah,
this
a
hit
I
don′t
know
about
all
that
shit
This
ain't
no
hit
Nigga,
this
for
the
streets
For
your
motherfucking
mind
Boss
Don,
Negro
Spirituals
Gotta
love
it,
ow
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