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​Ghetto Politics

This song is by Pras and appears on the album Win, Lose Or Draw (2005).

Original video
Pine, boxes, nine oxes
Unidentified flying objects
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers
Niggaz that can't get out, man they locked up

Criminal, minded, you've been blinded
Justice for all (c'mon) help me find it
Please we'll wind it, get in the hole
And start to grind it, who's behind it

Big brother got us spread like an atlas
Powerless in fear that leads to paralysis
Now when I speak, do your psycho-'nalysis
And those recordin' Wonderland like Alice's

Y'all don't know about guerilla warfare
Kids in Haiti, trapped with the hardware
Wear them by the pair while playin' Truth or Dare
Prisoners of war worse than the terror scare

This is the jungle we live in, this is the concrete
I call you pussy 'cause you are what you eat, homey
It's the art of war homes they play for keeps
So you still think that gangster shit is sweet?

Pine, boxes, nine oxes
Unidentified flying objects
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers
Niggaz that can't get out, man they locked up

Pine, boxes, nine oxes
Unidentified flying objects
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers
Niggaz that can't get out, man they locked up

Remember when you had a lot, yeah it was yours for sure
But we fight back, and ain't takin your shit no more
So raw, my four-four's leave a couple bent
The government talk shit, hand 'em a Doublemint

You fuckin with me? I see you like a jewel
With the terrorist my nigga, diesel like the fuel
Step up, smash your team, throw matches at your head
Quarters after we bathe it in gasoline

Or petroleum, you think it's sugar when it's sodium
Handcuffs ropes and chains holdin 'em
All in the zone, have your dough and your fame
But you ain't takin nuttin wit'cha, but your bones to your grave

To the world you're a slave, we the makers
Revolutionary haters, as anthropologists, gynecologists
Astronauts and shit, I don't think y'all ready for the apocalypse
So y'all better stay on top of shit

Pine, boxes, nine oxes
Unidentified flying objects
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers
Niggaz that can't get out, man they locked up

Pine, boxes, nine oxes
Unidentified flying objects
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers
Niggaz that can't get out, man they locked up

My flow contradicted, apocalyptic
With plans to cop the riches, make blacks stop the snitchin
Politics mixed with, new statistics
Futuristic, tell me are you a witness

Or a soldier? Innocent, criminal minded
I'm militant, wise to ignorant, livin with
No time to eat and no time to sleep, my hustle is deep
Wearin' the same gear all week

Near all heat, until I draw, it's kind of raw
Like a war between my ancestors and dinosaurs
I'm on some fuck the cops shit, ask your moms
She don't even know, what this {?} tax is on

Probably got another country never shown on map
For secret agents and the ones who faked they death live at
Where your kids disappear to when they get kidnapped
Streets is white, life is black, and this shit is trapped

Pine, boxes, nine oxes
Unidentified flying objects
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers
Niggaz that can't get out, man they locked up

Y'all been rockin fatigues for years right?
Y'all ready to war?!

Pine, boxes, nine oxes
Unidentified flying objects
Crime, doctors, slime, coppers
Niggaz that can't get out, man they locked up

Alright, where you at my niggaz? You in the Matrix?
Get the fuck off the streets, youknowwhatI'msayin'?
Fuck all that gangster shit, we here
It's real niggaz, put on your boots, man up
Get ready for war, ha, guerillas baby
Smoke hash

Written by:

Pras Michel / Temp