Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Presha, artist - Jeru The Damaja.
Date of issue: 08.07.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Presha |
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 |
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 niggas in the ghetto, give it everything you got |
Cuz until we reach the top, can’t stop and won’t stop |
Can you feel? |
The presha, the the the presha |
Hand over |
The presha, the the the presha |
Journalists write articles cuz 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 death |
There’s too much stress, too many bullets for your vest |
Temptress, suck 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 shit 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 ass niggas is mental slaves, I gotta protest |
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, kill 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 niggas in the ghetto, here I am |
(you got to deal with*instead of hand over) |
Meanwhile, back at Supahuman Klik Headquarters… |