Shyheim

Shyheim - The Surah songtekst

Je score:

(feat. Gutta)



[Intro: Show Stoppa]

Yeah, shit crazy out here, man

Nahwhatimean? We in the streets

For real, though, we livin' the shit

Lotta niggaz is talkin' the shit, man

Nahwhatimean, every day is a struggle

Feel me, uh... yeah, Show Stoppa, man

Gutta! Aiyo



[Show Stoppa]

These cold thoughts got me hot sweatin'

Pictures in my mind, blood, we tryin' hurry

Like a center rush, I don't get it

And I can't catch it, see when you mock me

Life a dream, with a message, but I can't catch it

Got me all jammed up, like burn a wall, with the hammer

You try to pop, it's all jammed up

Soft skin gettin' tough, and the paper got me missin' Salot

And the paper got me pitchin' the rock

I hate baseball, wait, y'all

We drop bombs, hail mary, you should listen to Pac

Mention Pac, gotta mention Biggie

So I got a fat black hammer fam, they call it biggie

You wishin' I give you one more chance, I ain't Biggie

Cock that thang back, blaow, is you ready to die?

They said he thoughtless, heartless and out of control

But I'm a Muslim, mock me, just watchin' my soul

Believe, Latin laha, in Allah

No God, but Allah, and Muhammed is his messenger

But you hot, wound up, disectin' ya

Body all open, 26 shots'll leave ya body all open

S.K., bisectin' ya, and the lead and shells is hot, dog

If it's a loud beef, get ate like a hot doog

We Muslim, and it get no realer than that

You can't touch a Monk, man, and just look over

And he stuck around, now I'm spillin' the gat

Dressed in black face mask, grillin' the cafer

I submit with to will of Allah, with no rat

P-R-A-Y, five times a day, I put my hair down

Seven days a week, I put my hair down

12 months a year, all year round, muslims put they hair down



[Shyheim]

Whose the kid with his mugshot on the cover of the Source

Shy show you how to rob niggaz, not in a rap song

That's 3 minutes and 45 seconds too long

I could hold a pale horse, blowin' a Newport short

Nobody does it bigger than my Bottom Up niggaz

So much coke on the street, I put Pepsi out of business

Shove my metal in your mouth, like braces, but I'm not dentist

Hip hop fans that listen, don't want me to finish this mischief

I'm a little, so I'mma pray for these niggaz

Like, Allah, please forgive 'em, for testin' Shyheim

Cuz, he does not know that, I am a prophet

And the pro with them two's, cuz I use, is my logic

I'm everywhere, so keep your head up, like a Pac head

Kill me or I'mma kill you, nigga fuck it



[Interlude: Show Stoppa]

Shyheim, is crazy right?

Nahwhatimean, we for real out here, Gutta!



[Chorus x2: Show Stoppa]

If it's beef, then it's to eat, mission that

Before we get, homey, I keep stuff Allah

Better ask for forgiveness, homey, y'all law

Cuz everybody won't make it to the promissed land



[5 Mics]

My struggles is deep, my pain is deep

Got me in trouble in these streets, my faith is week

I try to stay focused, but the, pain is hell

24 hours a day, hit a dormant cell

I used to go to truma, duece and do 36 rock gots

New surahs, and mad ayats

Til my faith got it week, started hittin' the block

Put the Koran down, just a pitch on the block

Look at me now, Sa-tan, got me ditchin' the cops

I know I'll probably feel of fire, when my casket drop

Dogs, I full a stomach full of flees and birds

When niggaz do, robberies, crush crack to crumbs

I'm from Brooklyn, where niggaz get found in they Benz

With the back of the medula, splashed out on the tint

Where the money and church collide, and the gangstas ride

They double barrel, have you ass leavin' all I can ride

This is my turf, since young, I've been puttin' in work

Survive, I guess, like throwback jersey shirts

Five beat a nigga, that'll twist your ride

I'm hood, crooked teeth, niggaz what the fifth's about

Eat your food, have you shittin' out, like hillbillies

Chew tobacco, my ocks be, spittin' out

Leave you stretched in your truck, with your braids in the back

I'm from Brooklyn, nigga, I was trained with the gat

Lived my live in the streets, I know about homicide

How to hustle, and bang, when the drama ride

Pitch crack on the block, where the G's be at

Rock Timbs, army fatigues, ski masks and hats

Oh Allah, why do my pain, gotta be so harsh

I never destined to be hood, and thrown in cop cars

Gutta, Bottom Up, Shyheim, walk with me



[Bucks]

Ever since the days of playin' the dirt

Been through it, jeans, things you never in, up in my knees in it

Cop a bird, and wing it, the work, debris spinach

Tappin' the surah, til the fans and them in it

I excede the limit, put the weed in the middle

With a crack batch, lit it, sever my peritheal vision

Seen myself diminish, and use a cannon

When my shit touchin', clear up your aim and kitchen

But I ain't, gettin' it, so the sound of you doing dishes

Sit up it, like some Latin bangin' pursuin' the vicious

Continous when I picture it, where Allah fit 'em

When you try to get it, and where do the law fit in

And when will it stop, I don't make, I just break the rules

Reasons for me to make, will do a dent

Officer Lat, academics for the things I do

When I'm too busy with the things I do

And it's becoming a problem, how I'mma say the beef is so loud

When they conflict, stutter from some mirage shit

The consequences, the end of a long clip

Long trip to the trauma center, you harm a Muslim

I even look, long at a sister

I'm tellin' you, it's the wrong decision

Pull heat, put it til you put a hole in the center, I know I'm a sinner

That's the least I can do, nigga
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Taal: Engels

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