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[Paris] Come, I'm P-Dog, with the shit that stick, now I'm fin' to get scandalous Huh, and tell y'all about a brain disease A act up it's a shame disease Nigga please, you still don't act right up Wait a minute, let me get my facts right When I say that we all don't act the same Just a handful wanna salt the game So I gotta roll deep Check your grip and don't smile, hard as concrete Damn shame but it's like that Cause some got hardheads like bricks that don't crack Raised up on TV Fast food and fast times, do or die G Without nuttin to lose but a war And here life don't mean SHIT to die for [scratched Chuck D: "Every brother ain't a brother"] [Paris] C'mon, yeah ["Every brother ain't a brother"] [Paris] B'le dat! ["Every brother ain't a brother"] [Paris] Sellin your soul, don't sell your soul man, yo ["Every brother ain't a brother"] ["You got my back and I got yours"] Songtexte [Paris] The reporter looked just like me or you But that don't mean the man was cool He understood when I said that it was death to intergrate Cause intergrate means assimilate (word!) But the media, hate the youth Love to spread lies and distort the truth They say the pen is stronger than the sword but the sword'll give any house nigga his just reward! So let the beat just roll on, huh While the weak get told on I'm P-Dog, tellin you the actual fact is just cause the skin is black don't mean shit! It ain't about us comin up To them, it's about us gunnin up It's a shame but no strain on the brain to see It's plain, some, are sleeping with the enemy C'mon! Yeah Yeah! [Paris] Boom, another knocked out, what's it all about Gotta give a shout to the few that's never sellin out P-Dog, I never slipe or slide, I never float along As long as in control I know I'm born to be a martyr Huh, and I'ma keep on rappin with The facts, that I keep on smashin shit No props cause it doesn't really matter bout the color of the cop And now I hate police so I won't stop See the punk bitch get mad, huh I ain't the one for a toe tag You best believe when you see me on the street I be a motherfucker ready for the static with a glock automatic! So let me tell you why I hate pigs The black gestapo, ultimate house nigga Simply because a brother wantin to be with a plan that wanna kill off and cage the black man Ain't never runnin from the U.S.A. Punk, land of the weak, freak, home of the slave And I ain't goin to Clarence cause the appearance is clear to me Some punks, are sleepin with the enemy Aus Songtexte Mania