Artist Talib Kweli & Dead Prez Song Sharp Shooters Typed by NLP Shit denmark Farum 3520 lirilommen@msn.com (stic.man) Everything is politics,I CHIN
my fam' Out the window every night, deadly intentions man Cocked back and ready to fire, hit man for hire And fuck politicians, nothin but liars As I build my cream
out to sea. But what the hell, we didn't even pass an audition. The lines you'll have to improvise. the words are written in The eyes of politicians who
for prisoners on lock Your gun finger in the air for revolution pawn cock Gettin' paid out the books this year We wanna cocoa butterin' large amounts, that's cream
eyed like blunts mixed with hash When you're in my Ferrari, look at the seats carve your ass L drive drunk baby, pass the glass As we run up in the club, politician
They serve it up...we drink it down They serve it up...we drink it down Politicians really are the cream of the crop They work so hard to make injustices
I do Trying to organize a team, willing to empty magazines This supreme fiends for cream We need Jesus like Mary Magdalene and Born Again Christians Ain't a politician
Big butts & blow jobs They go together like The sun and the sky Like whiskey and rye Like ice cream and pie Like lovers and sighs Big butts & blow jobs
shots, beam glocks, and doing shows Getting lifted on flows, six hundred, and hydro K.T. and Z-Ro, on a smash for cream Searching for dead politicians
(feat. RZA) [Intro: Tony Montana "Scarface" sample] It's those guys, man It's the fucking bankers, the politicians They the ones, don't wanna make coke
they love you, so cold and so vicious With friends like these, well, who needs politicians The first one, it always comes free They tell you heroin takes like ice cream
Reap', Gatekeep' Grym will assault all the herbs on the asphault Cash rules cats that steal shit, and blast false Get the paper, crooked politicians
fam' Out the window every night, deadly intentions man Cocked back and ready to fire, hit man for hire And fuck politicians, nothin but liars As I build my cream
came back from the moon today One of the parachutes didn't open Tourists are swarming over the Alps They shuttle by, buy postcards, lick ice-cream Sit
't play with me, you'll regret it Cause I target the man before the edit Leave you like hard tops beheaded I keep cream, the pistols my street team Triples
run it The faces on money change like the host on Teen Sumit I'm close to being done with this industry's cream driven Supreme livin', seein' more demons
to sea. But what the hell, we didn't even pass an audition. The lines you'll have to improvise. The words are written in the eyes of politicians who
had big hopes way back when chillin' broke "Politicians and bigots and pigs, oh my!" "Politicians and bigots and pigs" "Politicians and bigots and pigs, oh my!" "Politicians