Endangered Species Testo

Testo Endangered Species

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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