Bush Killa - Paris

«I understand that time is running out»

«Ooooh look, it’s the president!

Hey Mr. President!»

«Okay, there he go.

Easy, easy, don’t lose sight, wait

Two, three and… NOW!»

(gunshots, screaming)

Here I go, an angry brother finna make his move

But can I buck him in the city so I never lose?

See I’m a get him the crowd with a couple heavies

And lay the barrel to the ground, hold the gat steady

And now I’m ready for my adversary, talk is cheap

I’m looking for a way to make a plan and keep it neat

And check it out and make around and pick a rooftop

And get a spot where the view’s hot, set up shop

Cause all I wanna see is motherfucking brains hanging

Another level when it’s me and Devils gangbanging

So don’t be telling me to get the nonviolent spirit

Cause when I’m violent is the only time the devils hear it

Rat-tat-tat goes the gat to his devil’s face

I hope he think about how he done us when he lay to waste

And get the feeling of the peeling from the other side

From guns given to my people from my own kind

So get with Ollie cause I’m probably finna make you mad

I’m steady waiting for the day I get to see his ass

And give him two from the barrel of a black guerrilla

And that’s real from the motherfucking Bush Killa

(laughter)

«I understand that time is running out»

Now who is able to make war with the beast?

It starts with «P»

Trumpets sound when I push the program

And set my sight on a serpent man

Swinging the sword of the righteous

Make devils drop and they just can’t spite this

Genocide and the minds of men make

Brothers like me fill up with hate

I smell a skunk in the air

Cause your program still ain’t fair

So who you wanna blame for the Hate That Hate Made?

When P let off and pigs get sprayed

Y’all wanna kill off the black man?

But I know your master plan

So we’ll see who stops the black guerrilla

P Dog the Bush Killa

It’s P Dog the Bush Killa

Tolerance is getting thinner

Cause Iraq never called me nigga

So what I wanna go off and fight a war for?

You best believe I got your draft card

So bad to hate somebody else

But much worse to hate yourself

Wise up to the mentacide of the devil

Why must black folk be made to die?

Keeping 'em on and on

Keeping ya on and on

Now my brother down south said «Fuck the Police»

I’m saying «No Justice, No Peace»

So why’d you stick 'em like that?

Cause everybody want to get the black

But we’ll see who stop the black guerrilla

P Dog the Bush Killa

«He's been shot!»

«The president is dead»

Yeah, it’s P Dog the Bush Killa

«Nobody move, just stay where you are»

So where’s he at?

I just might wait for his motherfucking ass on a rooftop next tour

Buck his dome cause I’m known to play for keeps

Lay low to the flow and keep it neat

And send his ass home belly up

Should’ve listened to the facts that the black’s been telling ya

It’s no surprise that a brother’s got wise

Now rat-tat-tat-tat, it’s an eye for an eye

Now I’m in it, got to die before we see

That motherfuckers don’t give a damn for you or me

So wear a vest on your chest and the rest stand still

For P Dog the Bush Killa