East Flatbush Project

East Flatbush Project - Tried By 12 songtekst

Je score:

Don't say sticks and stones

They might break your bones

But the nine millimeter, it'll bore your dome

I'm talkin about the toe-taggin

Huh, the body-baggin

Man, niggas are dyin, huh, mommas are cryin, casket buyin

Who, me dyin, leave my family cryin?

Hell no, I cause, um, bloodbaths and showers

Send me commissary, motherfuck them flowers

Thoughts of slaughter, of leaving my daughters

Hours and hours of fears running through my mind

As I pick up the Zig 9

Beef starts with the shove and ends with the shovel

And niggas standing on your corner reminiscing of you

But your ass is out and you're dead and gone

So who'd you rather be?

The murdered, or the murderer?

Niggas got me stressed - I got my Tek and my vest

And I sing who Jah bless, let no man curse

Or one of us will leave here tonight in a hearse

For we'll be tried by 12

And fertilizing daisies

Crying mommas and cousins and crying babies

Due to the fact that death is a must

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust

Niggas getting bust

For in God we trust

So if you're comin to my town and try to slow the dough down

You must be casket-bound



Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6

Nigga

I sign my name on the book at your funeral

The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip

Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6



La-di-da-di

Saturday night and we like to party

The punks are fucking around so we might catch a body

Early Sunday morning, don't really wanna hurt nobody

So what they tryin to get?

I already got it

Chump motherfuckers just a-schemin on my shit

But little do they know I got the Zig on my hip with an extra clip

And I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6

Aw shit - murder commit

And there goes another statistic runnin' through ballistic

The witness say I'm wicked

But that's how I kick it

Cause I'll be the bastard who blasts and didn't get blasted

Boy kiss dem casket

I cut your wig back kid

Sucker, look who died

Body will be identified

Momma and poppa will cry, bitch-ass man says he'll testify

To see me tried, but here's I slide (?)

Upon the same corner that you did

And I'm still facing a bid



Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6

Nigga

I sign my name at the book at your funeral

The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip

Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by
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Taal: Engels

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