Текст песни Politics - Cee-Lo , Royce da 5'9"
Give
me
a
mountain.
Give
me
a
sea
Put
your
mind
on
wonderland,
be
what
you
want
to
be.
Wooow
It's
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Politics.
Ha
my
nigga
Seven
years
and
countin,
I've
been
accounting
For
unaccountable
rap
problems
'Cause
accountant
countin
his
rap
dollars
The
ice
watch
on
the
sleeve
of
the
white
collar
Leanin
like
the
Pisa
towser,
he's
in
power
Standing
on
top
of
the
black
bottom
You
should
pack
up
now
that
the
dirty
glove
is
with
me
Take
your
hat
off
inside
of
the
mitten
when
you
spittin
'Cause
you
can
get
it
for
sure
Your
whole
rap
clapped
up
out
you
If
I
don't
get
you
back
up
Got
you
in
a
morgue
sittin
stiff
in
the
drawer
Niggaz
I
can't
be
caught,
I
can't
be
bought
They
call
me
the
anti-core,
anti-talk
Anti,
when
it
comes
to
gettin
the
kind
of
hugs
That
come
from
a
fake
thug
That
show
me
a
sign
of
love
Who
am
I
to
judge
but
you
would
not
out
of
love
Walk
up
if
I
was
washed
up
like
a
Tsunami
flood
I
ain't
trying
to
bug
But
that's
why
you
got
to
shove
Come
on.
Excuse
me
while
I
school
them
on
how
to
pay
these
dues
Tell
whoever
jealous
and
want
to
slay
me,
cool
The
whole
game
got
the
old
bland
of
Mercedes
blues
Everybody
wanna
fill
Jay-Z
shoes
I
call
it
the
Ferrari
sniffs,
the
Phantom
flu
'Cause
y'all
sick,
what
already
exists,
can't
be
you
I
told
y'all
niggaz
in
oh-two
that
I
can't
be
touched
Yo
bitch
call
me
sugar
dick
with
the
candy
nuts
But
ain't
shit
sweet,
don't
get
it
twisted
I'll
beat
yo
ass,
I
don't
need
wine,
I
don't
need
cash
I'll
stick
a
sock
in
any
nigga
mouth
in
any
market
If
he
talkin,
he
a
target,
walk
in
his
apartment
While
he
drinkin,
spark
him
'til
he
leakin,
coughin
Remy
Martin
'Cause
if
I
flip
my
lid,
you'd
have
to
toss
him
in
the
garbage
Is
nothin
to
toughen
you
out,
fuck
is
you
frontin
about
We
cuttin
you
in,
I'm
cuttin
you
out
Royce
five
nine
is
a
prophet,
in
every
sense
of
the
word
Superb
finisher,
administer
words
like
ministers
The
tall
tales
of
the
low
sales
of
a
poet
Centuries
rolled
up
in
the
pen
that
he
holds
up
He
holds
it
to
holy
grail,
when
he
saw
the
soul
He
was
since
told
his
flows,
the
Davinci
code
decoded
Since
chosen,
he
prays
harder
But
everytime
he
spot
a
rival
revolvers
inside
His
bible
like,
Gregory
Heins
with
the
rage
of
Harlem
Po-po's
harder,
team
free-on,
we
so
cold
Red
like
beam
be
on
sight,
we
got
weed
neon
green
We
got
a
one
yay,
Celine
Deion
white,
green
Your
last
breath,
you
about
five
heartbeats
away
from
death
'Cause
you
the
leon
type,
so
muahh
Make
you
rest
in
peace
No
more
records
bein
sold,
less
is
me
Five
nine,
unsigned
Yeahh,
Royce
Da
5'9",
my
nigga
Nottz
This
is
a
M.I.C
and
teams
with
collaboration
Ladies
and
gentleman,
I
would
like
to
introduce
to
you,
Cee-Lo
Green.
Let's
go
Give
me
a
mountain.
(Dream
my
nigga).
Give
me
a
sea
(All
my
niggaz
dealin
with
the
politics).
Put
your
mind
on
wonderland
(I
smell
you
my
nigga).
Be
what
you
want
to
be.
(Dream
my
nigga)
It's
politics
my
nigga.
1 Intro
2 I Owe You
3 Politics
4 Skit
5 Blow Dat
6 Skit # 2
7 F_ck My Brains Out
8 Independent's Day
9 Meeting Of The Bosses
10 Skit #3
11 Yeah
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