Tales From the Darkside — текст песни (Ice Cube, Chuck D)

Verse One: Ice Cube

Peace - don`t make me laugh!
All I hear is motherfuckers rappin sucotash
Livin large, tellin me to get out the gang
I`m a nigga, gotta live by the trigger
How the fuck do you figure?
that I can say peace and the gunshots will cease?!
Every cop killer goes ignored
They just send another nigga to the morgue
A point scored- they could give a fuck about us
They rather catch us with guns and white powder
If I was old, they`d probably be a friend of me
Since I`m young, they consider me the enemy
They kill ten of me to get the job correct
To serve, protect, and break a niggas neck
Cuz I`m the one with the trunk of funk
And `Fuck tha Police` in the tape deck
You should listen to me cuz there`s more to see
Call my neighborhood a ghetto cuz it houses minorities
The other color don`t know you can run but not hide
These are tales from the darkside...

Verse Two:

You wanna free Africa, I stare at yuh
Cuz we ain`t got it too good in America
I can`t fuck with them overseas
My homeboy died over a key of cocaine
It was plain and simple
The 9mm went to the temple
was the sound I put the bitch down
And ran to the schoolyard bathroom
Looked in the trash can yo it had room
So I ducked my ass in it for a minute
Covered with trash I had to lay back
Mad as fuck, thinkin` about the payback
Tonite the crew gonna have a little fun
I went home and cut the barrel of my shotgun
It`s gettin critical - I stole a 5.0
I let it go - drive real slow
I yelled out `Ice Cube sucka`
The shot-gun kicked - and it murdered motherfuckers
I told you last album
when I got a sawed off, bodies are hauled off
Its a shame, that niggas die young
But to the light side it don`t matter none
It`ll be a drive by homicide
But to me its just another tale from the darkside...

Verse Three: Chuck D

Standing in the middle of war
In the middle we flex
When we die, we won`t make +Jet+
+Ebony+ can`t see to the lightside
The term they apply to us is a nigga
Call it what you want, cause I`m comin from the coroner
Sayin my rhymes with a Ph.D.
Who`s black - don`t wanna role - sells his soul
Watch his head go rollin
Who the fuck are they foolin?
Nobody knows, but I suppose the color of my clothes
Matches the color of the one on my face
as they wonder whats under my waist
[Standin on the verge] of them gettin brown
thats a fact got a fear on their bozack
Run, run, run, their ass off, they can not hide
Yet Cube, they can`t fuck with the darkside!



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