Представляем точный текст композиции "Not Yet Free" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Coup (The) . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Not Yet Free» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Coup (The) передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.
Coup (The) - "Not Yet Free"
Lyrics to Not Yet Free : [sample: Ice Cube] "Blacks are too fuckin broke to be republicans" [cut and scratched by DJ Pam the Funkstress] [Verse One: Boots] In this land I cant stand or sit and not get shit thrown up in my face A brotha never gets his props Im doin bellyflops at the department of waste And everyday I pulls a front so nobody pulls my card I got a mirror in my pocket and I practice lookin hard Im lookin behind me beside me ahead of me Therell be no feet makin tracks here instead of me But I cant disregard just what the news says to me Im twenty-one, so Ive reached my life expectancy At any minute I could be in some shit that kills my skinny ass From motherfuckers doin the sellout strut or probably Oakland task My relationship with OPD has been like one big diss Long arm of the law, grips my dick so tight its hard to even piss So I forgot aint even got a pot to do it in Up at the church theyre tellin me its because I live in sin So I grin, but nevertheless my mind wont dwell I must be trippin cause I thought I was livin in hell Capitalism is like a spider, the web is getting tighter Im struggling like a fighter, just to bust loose Its like a noose asyphyxiation sets in Just when I think Im free it seems to me the spider steps in This web is made of money made of greed made of me Of what I have become in a parasite economy [Verse Two: E Roc] In the winter theres a splinter with the smell of the rain And the scent of the street, but all I smell is the pain Of a brotha whos a hustler and hes stuck to the grind Of a sista whos a hooker gotta sell her behind Desperation makes her brotha get a little more bold The circumstance gets deeper when its damp and its cold So I spend my time thinking bout the ultimate gank Can I get my Coup together pull a move on the bank' I be the picture perfect hustler for the piece of the pie But my daddy always taught me just to reach for the sky Now my dream and aspirations go from single to hoe As I realize theres a million motherfuckers in the cold No need to be told, cause when you got a million po people Gettin ganked, by a few that are rich and evil But its illegal, to wonder how they livin fat (One two three) everybody get a gat [Verse Three: Boots] Ahhhhhh yeah! Niggaz, thugs, dope dealers and pimps Basketball players, rap stars, and simps Thats what little black boys... are made of Sluts, hoes, and press the naps around your beck Broads pop that coochie, bitches stay in check Thats what little black girls... are made of But if were made of that who made us and what can we do to change us The oppressor tries to tame us heres a FOOT for his anus! Well since the days when I was shittin in diapers It was evident the President didnt like us Assassination attempts Id root for the snipers My teacher told me that I didnt know what right was Well she was wrong cause I knew what a right was And a left and an uppercut, too I had a hunch a sucker punch is what my people got Thats why I was constantly red, black, and blue [Outro: E Roc, Boots] [E] Boots, Boots, Boots, you wanna throw some shots out' [B] Ay man I aint done with my lyrics yet, thats not cool [E] Ay, but aint this a freestyle' [B] Naw, this is not yet freestyle cause we not yet free [E] Hey we gonna throw some shots out anyway [guns are cocked] [B] Awright fuckit, who yall wanna throw some shots out to' [E] Uhh whassup with that uhh Bill Clinton and Al Gore' [B] Aight, they the new masters up in the White House and everything Lets throw some shots out [E] Yeah [blam, blam blam] [B] Awright, what about Bush' He on the way out and everything but I think we need a goodbye for his ass [gun cocked] [E] Uh-huh [blam] [E] See-ya! [B] Awright, what about Ross Perot and the good ol boys' [guns cocked] [E] The who' [B] You know who they are, awright [blam blam, blam] [B] Ay what about Pete Wilson' (Whassup) That Pete Wilson motherfucker [E] Yeah whassup wit him' [B] Awright [blam] [E] Got him! [B] Awright, ay, the L.A.P.D., [guns cocking repeatedly throughout] The O.P.D., The Richmond P.D., Detroit P.D., ay [E] Ay fuck it, fuck it, the whole, the whole motherfuckin P.D. [B] Awright, load up [E] Yeah, heres a loaded club for yo ass [semi-automatic] [B] Awright, cool -- ay, what about these skinheads' Ay check it out [E] I cant stand dem fools [B] Awright awright, load it up, load it up, awright, cool [semi-automatic] [E] Yeah, got em! [B] Ay, what about these sellout motherfuckers! [E] Who' [gun cocks] [B] You know these sellout motherfuckers -- Ellay DuHarris [E] Who else' [gun cocks] [B] Tom Bradley [E] Who else' [gun cocks] [B] David Dinkins, ay, line em up [E] Yeah be true to the game [blam blam blam blam] [B] Ay, we outta ammo, what we gon do' [E] Lets get the fuck up outta here [B] Aight cool, we out [ Not Yet Free Lyrics ]
Содержание трека помогает не только запомнить любимые строки, но и ощутить связь с Coup (The). Возможно, вы заметите, как лирика «Not Yet Free» перекликается с вашим опытом, или найдёте ответы на давние вопросы. Эта страница создана для ценителей музыки: здесь вы сохраните текст для личного использования, поделитесь им с друзьями или используете в творчестве. Погружайтесь в мир слов композиции «Not Yet Free» — каждая строчка здесь обретает новый смысл.