Ice Cube

Ice Cube - Us lyrics

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Could you tell me who released our animal instinct?
 Got the white man sittin' there tickled pink.
 Laughin' at us on the avenue
 Bustin' caps at each other after havin' brew
 We can't enjoy ourselves
 Too busy jealous... Of each other's wealth
 Commin' up is just in me
 But the Black community is full of envy
 Too much back stabbin'
 While I look up the street I see all the japs grabbin'
 Every vacant lot in my neighborhood
 Build a store, and sell their goods
 To the county of sips (?)
 You know us po niggas: nappy hair and big lips?
 Four or five babies on your crotch
 And you expect Uncle Sam to help us out?
 We ain't nothin' but porchmonkeys
 To the average bigot, redneck honky
 You say comin' up is a must
 But before we can come up, take a look at US

 Verse Two:

 And all y'all dope-dealers...
 Your as bad as the po-lice- cause ya kill us
 You got rich when you started slangin' dope
 But you ain't built us a supermarket
 So when can spend our money with the blacks
 Too busy buyin' gold an' Caddilacs
 That's what ya doin' with the money that ya raisin'
 Exploitin' us like the Caucasians did
 For 400 years - I got 400 tears- for 400 peers
 Died last year from gang-related crimes
 That's why I got gang-related rhymes
 But when I do a show ta kick some facts
 Us Blacks don't know how ta act
 Sometimes I believe the hype, man
 We're messin' up ourselves and blame the white man
 But don't point the finger you jiggaboo
 Take a look at yourself ya dumb nigga you
 Pretty soon hip-hop won't be so nice
 No Ice Cube, just Vannilla Ice
 And yall sit and scream and cus
 But there's no one ta blame- but US


 Verse Three:

 US ... will always sing the blues
 'Cause all we care about is hairstyles and tennis shoes
 But if ya step on mine ya pushed a button
 "Cause I'll beat you down like it ain't nothin'
 Just like a beast
 But I'm the first nigga ta holler out {PEACE, BLACK MAN}
 I beat my wife and children to a pulp
 When I get drunk and smoke dope
 Got a bad heart condition
 Still eat hog-mogs an' chitlin's
 Bet my money on the dice and the horses
 Jobless, so I'm a hope for the armed forces
 Go to church but they tease us
 Wit' a picture of a blue-eyed Jesus
 They used to call me Negro
 After all this time I'm still bustin up the chiffarobe
 No respect and didn't know it
 And I'm havin' more babies than I really can afford
 In jail 'cause I can't pay the mother
 Held back in life because of my color
 Now this is just a little summary
 Of US, but yall think it's dumb of me
 To put a mirror to ya face, but trust
 Nobody gives a fuck about
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Priority Records, Inc.

Details:

Released in: 2017

Language: English

Appearing on: Death Certificate (1991)

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