Lyrics Peruvian Cocaine - Immortal Technique, C Rayz Walz, Diabolic

Peruvian Cocaine

«I've heard whispers… about the financial support your government receives
from the drug industry?»
«Well, the irony of this, of course, is that this money, which is in the
billions, is coming from your country.
You see, you are the major purchaser of
our national product, which is, of course, cocaína.»
«Cocaine.
On one hand, you’re saying the United States government is spending
millions of dollars to eliminate the flow of drugs onto our streets.
At the same time, we are doing business with the very same government that is
flooding our streets with cocaine?»
«Mm, mm, si, si.
Let me show you a few of the other characters that are
involved in this… tragicomedy.»
«Oigan ustedes ahi!
Ustedes trabajando!
Sigan trabajando carajo!»
«Oye Luis, ¿Cuándo van a terminar?»
«Ahorita.»
«Bueno que se apuren los burros.
Ahorita viene el camión, apúra, diles!»
«Ahorita van a venir para recoger los productos, apúrate!»
I’m on the border of Bolivia, working for pennies
Treated like a slave, the coca fields have to be ready
The spirit of my people is starving, broken and sweaty
Dreaming about revolution (
«¡Revolucion!»
) looking at my machete
But the workload is too heavy to rise up in arms
And if I ran away, I know they’d probably murder my moms
So I pray to Jesú Cristo when I go to the mission
Process the cocaine paste, and play my position
Ok, listen, Juan Valdez, just get me my product
Before we chop off your hands for worker’s misconduct
I got the power to shoot a copper, and not get charged
And it would be sad to see your family in front of a firing squad
So, to feed your kids?
I need these bricks
Forty tons in total, let me test it, indeed, I…
Shit, this is good.
Pass me a tissue
And don’t worry about them, I paid off the official
Yo, it don’t come as a challenge, I’m the son of some of the foulest
Elected by my people, the only one on the ballot
Born and bred to consult with feds, I laugh at fate
And assassinate my predecessor to have his place
In a Third World fascist state, lock the nation
With 90% of the wealth in 10% of the population
The Central Intelligence Agency takes weight faithfully
The finest type of China white and cocaine, you’ll see
Honey, I’m home!
Never mind why your bank account’s suddenly grown.
It’s
Funny we’re
so
out of this debt from this money we owe!
Would you
Run if I told you that I had two governments overthrown
To keep our son enrolled in a private school and to keep our tummies swollen?
Come on, our fucking home was built on a foundation
Of bloody throats.
The hungry stolen of their souls.
Of course this country’s
Running coke.
I took a stunted oath to hush the ones who know
The CIA conducts the flow for these young hustlers that lust for dough
I don’t work in the hood.
Hit my connect.
That’s
What’s really good.
They supply work to the hood
These dudes fucking crack me up.
Scrutinized like
We inferior.
Petrified when we meet in my area (Calm down)
My dudes don’t shoot until I say so.
You got the loot?
Give me the «Yay-Yay!»
like Ice Cube, so don’t play with
My llello
.
We won’t stop for you bastards
My street scramblers chop it and bag it
Taking pictures and tapping phones, debating snitches and
Cracking codes.
Fast to cuff or blast the fo' on any
Hustler stacking dough.
There’s probably crack or blow
And my overtime is where your taxes go.
I’ll gain your trust
Get you to hand weight to us ‘cause we paid up front
On the low with cameras taping ya.
Getting popped
With weight?
The prison sentence is due.
Make the call
And then leave with two kis out the evidence room
With my fame.
Truck, boat, or plane, they’re watching you
You think you got work?
They’re copping too!
We control blocks.
They lock countries and own
Companies.
We had nice cars and sneaker money!
Now there’s players out there talking 'bout they holding
With bugs in their house like they down South with windows open
Your dough ain’t long—you wrong—you take shorts and soon
Feds’ll be up in your mouth like forks and spoons
So enjoy the rush, live plush off coke bread.
Soon
You’ll be in a cell with me like Jenny Lopez
In a school, I was a bully.
Now life is fully a joke
I’ll keep afloat on a boat for Peruvian coke
Players do favors for governors and tax makers
Fat Quakers smoke crack and sex acts with bad mayors
The walls got ears.
You bigmouths probably scared
Not prepared to do years like Javier
«The story just told is an example of the path that drugs take on their way to
every neighborhood, in every state, of this country.
It’s a lot deeper than the
niggas on your block.
So when they point the finger at you, brother man?
This
is what you’ve got to tell them.»
«I'm not guilty.
You’re
the one that’s guilty.
The lawmakers, the politicians, the Columbian drug lords.
.
all you who lobby against making drugs legal, just like you did with alcohol
during the prohibition!
You’re
the one who’s guilty.
I mean, c’mon, let’s kick the ballistics here:
ain’t no Uzis made in Harlem!
Not one of us in here owns a poppy field!
This thing is bigger than Immortal Technique.
This is big business.
This is the American way.»