lirik lagu downpressor man – payday monsanto
aye yo, you hear about the…
war on poverty, war on drugs, war on terrorists, war on thugs. it’s a war on the poor, not a war on crime, ’cause corporate coke dealers don’t do no time…
don’t, don’t, don’t do no time…
don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t do no time…
don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t…
why, oh why this beautiful flower i’m puffin’, do they battle flagrant? don’t try to label it a drug, when it’s a natural agent. why as a people, do we stand back, and take it? why’d it take years for me to see a cannabis conspiracy, that’s rather blatant? men who dub it a class*a narcotic, tend to love it, the hypnotic state, that straight dominates the general public. you can run diesel enginеs off of somethin’ this dank, think about that, next time you put a pump in your tank. pеtrol got us loco, our dilemma be, a dependency on foreign energy, i call it dough*foe, fossil fuels don’t grow, the potential benefits achieved, from the majestic hemp seed, most people don’t know. (meanwhile) your government push liquor/tobacco, take away that tax, your whole economy collapse…(ohhh!) wall st. still partake in the slave trade, man. don’t let them fool you, with they little makeshift lemonade stands. beautiful starbucks storefront, and there’s a rock, hey… [glass shatters]
that’s for that five dollar latte. i’m merrill lynch on mescaline, automatons hit the deck, i’ma wrap the world’s strongest rope around his bl**dy neck, and sing…
downpressor man, you’ve long been exempt, broke your own laws, and escaped the punishment, your iniquitis ways is h*ll bent, about time you get hung with a rope made of hemp…i know, you know that’s not where it’s at, tryin’ to get people hooked on crack, sick & fat, it’s so sad that you have to get paid back, i know your momma didn’t raise you like that…
they tryin’ to draw parallels, but here’s the bottom line, rhymes is like the girl maricel, she so fine. by design, they stole your soul, controlled your mind, this n*gga here’ll stop the itch, like gold bond. i’m recommended most, by the top positions, they give me propositions, sayin’ stop the dissin, but that’s a no*no. suckas don’t deserve a promo, they so*so, ’bout to get stuck like a dodo. phones i break, bones i bake got you shakin’, but there ain’t no frontin’, or fakin’ on the forsaken. from the right wing, i might sing a ancient hymn, security’s a real tight thing, no breakin’ in. calypso lou hit it right on the b*tton, you get so blue, when he say you bloodsuckin’. perplexin’ how the fake make it look so real, we gettin’ over like a cobra, with a snake appeal. (snake’ll peel) without the hissin’, i don’t have to shout for you to listen, a flower rose in okinawa, now we’re out out of prison. reminiscin’ over d.c. soldiers like trouble (t) roy, no more bubble*boy, now it’s double the joy. like wire taps headed by runnin’ politicians, i fire caps while i be stunnin’, my style ain’t missin’. like it’s locked, i’ll make cell blocks spread the word, echoes in the crusty h*ll box, it’s never heard. like screams, as you wakin’ up out your nightmare, dreams of my team, break it up, not in a lightyear. i’m right here, although outside the spherical region, bombs in arm’s reach, when it’s time for lyrical beatin’s. profound like, but on the surface like a general ground strike, if i came down the pike like that, you gettin’ flattened. i fatten gargantuan beats, and make ’em plumper, pop is takin’ your g, your nickname on the streets’d be thumper. excuse me, this a orgy? you wanna f*ck*y? you need me like larry forgy need kentucky. you suck*y? stinky b*tch starvin’ for grammys, hungry me & my mics, marvin & tammy. ain’t nothin’ like the real thing, son. you see i keep that booty shinin’, more value than a ruby & a diamond intensity. they sentence me from the bad discrepancies between the penalties, for crack & powder, that’s why i be a courtroom shouter. i know that h*rny judge won’t budge, so i’ma oust her, then f*ck her, see her on the streets, then buck her. from the rooftops, i straight juice cops, there ain’t no other crime menace, you have to learn time & again, this rhyme is endless. from the time i begin this, way beyond the time the sh*t is finished, i send this. where as, it cannot be avoided, the spirit of the lyrics embroided, for you to rejoice with. i voice it, though this be much more than opinion, it’s choice sh*t, i got more beef than argentinians. plus, a little hut in the gut of honduras, where people make bedroom sets, dressers, and bureaus. it’s way clear, sh*t is dramatic like shakespeare, there ain’t a pair of shoes made in these fifty states, here. plus, anything that reads j*p says quality, sorry my policy is honesty, now honestly. back to my ocean floor ways, and where i sleep, it’s fat like them broken law days. oh, yeah it’s deep, like whale sh*t, but that’s some sh*t you bound to fail with, that fairytale sh*t, the type of sh*t you won’t prevail with. (hmmm) tap that ass, it’s soundin’ hollow, listen to my bottomless acute type flow, that drown the shallow…(hmmm) listen to my bottomless acute type flow, that drown the shallow…
mmm, these chips is good as sh*t. what do they put in these things?
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