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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes
Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » S » Shyheim
The Surah - текст песни



The Surah


(feat. Gutta)




[Intro: Show Stoppa]


Yeah, shit crazy out here, man


Nahwhatimean? We in the streets


For real, though, we livin' the shit


Lotta niggaz is talkin' the shit, man


Nahwhatimean, every day is a struggle


Feel me, uh... yeah, Show Stoppa, man


Gutta! Aiyo




[Show Stoppa]


These cold thoughts got me hot sweatin'


Pictures in my mind, blood, we tryin' hurry


Like a center rush, I don't get it


And I can't catch it, see when you mock me


Life a dream, with a message, but I can't catch it


Got me all jammed up, like burn a wall, with the hammer


You try to pop, it's all jammed up


Soft skin gettin' tough, and the paper got me missin' Salot


And the paper got me pitchin' the rock


I hate baseball, wait, y'all


We drop bombs, hail mary, you should listen to Pac


Mention Pac, gotta mention Biggie


So I got a fat black hammer fam, they call it biggie


You wishin' I give you one more chance, I ain't Biggie


Cock that thang back, blaow, is you ready to die?


They said he thoughtless, heartless and out of control


But I'm a Muslim, mock me, just watchin' my soul


Believe, Latin laha, in Allah


No God, but Allah, and Muhammed is his messenger


But you hot, wound up, disectin' ya


Body all open, 26 shots'll leave ya body all open


S.K., bisectin' ya, and the lead and shells is hot, dog


If it's a loud beef, get ate like a hot doog


We Muslim, and it get no realer than that


You can't touch a Monk, man, and just look over


And he stuck around, now I'm spillin' the gat


Dressed in black face mask, grillin' the cafer


I submit with to will of Allah, with no rat


P-R-A-Y, five times a day, I put my hair down


Seven days a week, I put my hair down


12 months a year, all year round, muslims put they hair down




[Shyheim]


Whose the kid with his mugshot on the cover of the Source


Shy show you how to rob niggaz, not in a rap song (Texts of songs )


That's 3 minutes and 45 seconds too long


I could hold a pale horse, blowin' a Newport short


Nobody does it bigger than my Bottom Up niggaz


So much coke on the street, I put Pepsi out of business


Shove my metal in your mouth, like braces, but I'm not dentist


Hip hop fans that listen, don't want me to finish this mischief


I'm a little, so I'mma pray for these niggaz


Like, Allah, please forgive 'em, for testin' Shyheim


Cuz, he does not know that, I am a prophet


And the pro with them two's, cuz I use, is my logic


I'm everywhere, so keep your head up, like a Pac head


Kill me or I'mma kill you, nigga fuck it




[Interlude: Show Stoppa]


Shyheim, is crazy right?


Nahwhatimean, we for real out here, Gutta!




[Chorus x2: Show Stoppa]


If it's beef, then it's to eat, mission that


Before we get, homey, I keep stuff Allah


Better ask for forgiveness, homey, y'all law


Cuz everybody won't make it to the promissed land




[5 Mics]


My struggles is deep, my pain is deep


Got me in trouble in these streets, my faith is week


I try to stay focused, but the, pain is hell


24 hours a day, hit a dormant cell


I used to go to truma, duece and do 36 rock gots


New surahs, and mad ayats


Til my faith got it week, started hittin' the block


Put the Koran down, just a pitch on the block


Look at me now, Sa-tan, got me ditchin' the cops


I know I'll probably feel of fire, when my casket drop


Dogs, I full a stomach full of flees and birds


When niggaz do, robberies, crush crack to crumbs


I'm from Brooklyn, where niggaz get found in they Benz


With the back of the medula, splashed out on the tint


Where the money and church collide, and the gangstas ride


They double barrel, have you ass leavin' all I can ride


This is my turf, since young, I've been puttin' in work


Survive, I guess, like throwback jersey shirts


Five beat a nigga, that'll twist your ride


I'm hood, crooked teeth, niggaz what the fifth's about


Eat your food, have you shittin' out, like hillbillies


Chew tobacco, my ocks be, spittin' out


Leave you stretched in your truck, with your braids in the back


I'm from Brooklyn, nigga, I was trained with the gat


Lived my live in the streets, I know about homicide


How to hustle, and bang, when the drama ride


Pitch crack on the block, where the G's be at


Rock Timbs, army fatigues, ski masks and hats


Oh Allah, why do my pain, gotta be so harsh


I never destined to be hood, and thrown in cop cars


Gutta, Bottom Up, Shyheim, walk with me




[Bucks]


Ever since the days of playin' the dirt


Been through it, jeans, things you never in, up in my knees in it


Cop a bird, and wing it, the work, debris spinach


Tappin' the surah, til the fans and them in it


I excede the limit, put the weed in the middle


With a crack batch, lit it, sever my peritheal vision


Seen myself diminish, and use a cannon


When my shit touchin', clear up your aim and kitchen


But I ain't, gettin' it, so the sound of you doing dishes


Sit up it, like some Latin bangin' pursuin' the vicious


Continous when I picture it, where Allah fit 'em


When you try to get it, and where do the law fit in


And when will it stop, I don't make, I just break the rules


Reasons for me to make, will do a dent


Officer Lat, academics for the things I do


When I'm too busy with the things I do


And it's becoming a problem, how I'mma say the beef is so loud


When they conflict, stutter from some mirage shit


The consequences, the end of a long clip


Long trip to the trauma center, you harm a Muslim


I even look, long at a sister


I'm tellin' you, it's the wrong decision


Pull heat, put it til you put a hole in the center, I know I'm a sinner


That's the least I can do, nigga



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