Jeru The Damaja - Presha lyrics

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Jeru The Damaja - Presha lyrics

Intro: This goes out to all my young brothers and sisters Hold ya head, things ain't always what they seem I'm about to give you a dose of reality Real deal {Jeru The Damaja Nowaways, records are played and superstars are made Still mothers in the ghetto, rent dont get payed As a result, bullets are sprayed and their sons are laid It's no myth, in ghetto life, if you don't fight you fade Surviving in the streets, not a task for ordinary men Growing up in the hood, young black and supahuman Caught up in the game of blocks and cops run your block Intercourse with witches and hunted by warlocks For props, boos-hoot pop, another brother drops He barely knew his pops, now his little seed will barely know his pops Tunnel vision like a cyclops I give you x-ray vision with these supahuman eyedrops My n***as in the ghetto, give it everything you got 'cause until we reach the top, can't stop and won't stop Chorus 2X: Can you feel? The presha, the the the presha Hand over The presha, the the the presha {Jeru The Damaja Journalists write articles 'cause they can't write rhymes Ever since I was a youth I dealt in crime Now I'm trying to reach the youth, to preserve what's left There's a fork in the road, choose life or d**h There's too much stress, too many bullets for your vest Temptress, s** ya best, exotic strains of syphillis The rest, rest in the Earth, only the best progress It's you who think I see commercial success Warning, this sh** is real, this is not a test And what I express worth more than a Lexus Serve it like baby food, still hard to digest Long a** n***as is mental slaves, I gotta protest Chorus 2X {Jeru The Damaja Baby in the crib, and dad got no loot for food So he do what he got to do Keep it real, I don't playa hate ya God my divine nature, sent at this time to stabilize the structure We should all live like wise kings, now sing praise to the gutter The blazed double X, concelead like a box cutter Brothers should be teaching, not murdering one another Word, to the mother land, k** the other man Lord of the concrete jungle, and Tarzan was a black man Swingin on vines vibin, been balancin the eco system And since there's no more n***as in the ghetto, here I am Chorus 4X (you got to deal with*instead of hand over) Meanwhile, back at Supahuman Klik Headquarters...