Piss on Your Grave - текст песни
Piss on Your Grave
(Chorus) Uhhhh!! I wanna piss on your grave! Make me feel alright! Yaa Yaa Yaa!! (Repeat) While you was eatin' T-bone steaks In palatial estates, Ornate with gates that automate So those you hate could only spectate, I was kissing my mate Through iron grates While the guards wait, 50 cent rate for making license plates. My papermate pen shakes Vibrates from 808 quakes Over breaks Dug outta crates That sag from weight Of the vinyl plates... Girls work till they back ache And their breasts con't lactate You're laughin' to the bank Smilin', showin' all your plaque flakes Contesting, contesting 1,2,3 Never shoulda been put in the penitentiary Boots from The Coup would like to say I'll shove these foodstamps down your throat Just to block your airway And that's the fair way 'cuz everyday You're on a moola mission Military killin' millions 'til you low on ammunition Bodies beyond recognition Twisted complex positions Then their kids work in your factories And die of malnutrition See your net profit stats Hold some murderous facts But if you listen to the news you mighta Heard it was blacks You got us herded in shacks I got the pertinent tax How 'bout the one for when I bust my ass And you relax I'll hit your head wit an axe Play soccer wit' your brain To make it official Slice your jugular vein Still writin' songs that my momma could sang And if you feel some yellow drips on your skull It ain't rain. (Chorus) That bitch ass on the front of a buck Never gave a fuck He forced his black women slaves To give him dick sucks And when he bust a nut He'd laugh and cackle Let the leather whip crackle Send 'em back to pick tobacco Shackled Wouldn't give 'em nil So his homies stacked bills Fought on flatland and hill To keep the british out the till, scrill Kept Washington dumpin' 'em in ditches So slave owning son of a bitches Could keep their riches Which is how the war got funded With two centuries of juice From Black slaves bodies And the profits they produced You could deduce That these men might win Fit right in And make rights then Just for rich white men So they quit fightin' And wrote up a declaration
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