Black Market Militia - GemStars (DJ Absolute Remix) lyrics

[Intro: William Cooper (k**ah Priest)] (Yea pa** that) *Sniffin' Weed* Word up, word up, word up, haha! That sh** feel good right? 'Knaw'mean? (Yea) GemStar The Regime straight up! Black Market The Revolution (Yea) Both sides of the coin (Exoticness) You understand what we talkin' 'bout? (uh huh) We givin' y'all fair warnin' [Tragedy Khadafi] Hot lead bust through iron pipes Blood drip from the corner of a young thug's mouth The hood life, is torn flesh And his last bit of breath, pulses over dead flesh Homicide hover like Vultures Married the game, now the Earth's dirty and indulges Should of seen him though n***as though his heart was the coldest Left two seeds, little son Rod was the oldest Two baby mothers, blowin' guns duckin' under covers And his motto was, no one in this whole world love us From the Womb to the Tomb, presume the youth's scars Soul on ice, tears of a k**er behind bars When you curse God, streets is a gangsta's graveyard My advice, in the meantime to you is play hard It's real, when you deal with the cards you dealt It's not real, when your seeds feel the pain you felt Break the curse Disciple n***a paved the way It ain't gangsta when your seeds go lay in the same grave You die in the same hood, bleed on the same corner The game's over, all of my n***as have fair warnin' Yea fair warnin', symbolize life [k**ah Priest] My rhymes a guideline for political thugs and O.G.'s We blow trees in front of authorities not givin' a f** Revolvers will squeeze regardless to the warrants you read Trauma we bleed, before they put our wrists in them cuffs I sit in the cut like I'm '62, an ex-Panther Narrator, screen writer for n***as in handcuffs Gangstas are freedom fighters doin' life in the slammers Where the strangers take advantage when they tie our bandanas And I Thank You, wit the knife 'til we collide wit 'em hammers Phantoms they talk to me seldom Cats yell from they gut they shells come and their skeletons struck How I survive that .4 - .5, well, I tell 'em it's luck Felons erupt at chow time, shots heard from a loud .9 Fitted Turbans we feast and beneath her loud signs I don't care if your Crip or you Blood When cops come, get rid of them d** For Revolution grab that mask, pistol, and glove This is the love, Black oils richer than blood I'm sick of the grudge, between Vice Lords and G.D.'s Latin Kings and Mieta's, it's that real sh**, that hood lecture [William Cooper] Your future's outlined in chalk, when you tangle with dope And few know what they riskin' 'til eventually choke I put them flames to the smoke your body leaks 'til y'all soap Black Market's the vault, now we that uncooked coke That smuggled in on boats, dippin' DEA coats Poppin' up like toast, so don't play me too close The FBI and the Mob be like the Bloods and the Crips Seems like the root of all evil leads to Government chips It's better to slip with the foot, then slip with the tongue Flash both sides of the coin, then the Ying and Yang forms Keep it straight, Black and White, wit no gray in my zone Stand on top of my word, what I gave is my soul So who do I owe? Dug myself up out of a hole And while y'all fightin' for Gold, I fight the NWO Since twelve years old, I'd known where to get a burner Because the breath of the Devil, have you huggin' the corner Word up! [Hook: k**ah Priest] *2X* And in the hood, we spit 'GemStars' Givin' you fair warnings, for life Lectures Puttin' holes in your Texture Only two ways to go - Parole or the Stretcher We'd rather be on our thrones, holdin' our Scepters