| Good evening, this is the truth hour
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| And don’t you touch that dial
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| Just stay tuned in, to the truth hour
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| I didn’t come to lighten up, I came to tighten up
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| Niggas, here I come, black nigga, the guerrilla
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| Busting shit, who is it? |
| — it's the Bitch Made Nigga Killa
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| I control the streets, shit is all underground
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| Niggas gotta step the fuck back, when I come around
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| Nigga, fuck the police, the white one, the black one
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| The Mexican, the Japanese can all suck deez
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| Cause how in the fuck can you serve this government?
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| That be plotting to kill niggas, they want to steal niggas
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| Here we are today, 30, 40 million strong
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| Handkerchief-headed niggas saying ain’t shit wrong
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| Niggas don’t give a fuck about your three strikes
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| That’s why I give you hell when I’m busting on the mic
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| I got niggas in the cut of the ninety-one
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| Niggas in the streets selling heaters, I’mma find me one
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| And off them devils off from the shack
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| Fools going crazy cause that nigga Ren is back
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| What’s up, dawg? |
| — it's on once again, let them fools know
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| When we’re coming through, we’re straight giving you the voo doo
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| Keep it real, if you like it or you don’t
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| Working hard like bugs, straight have know what the fuck we want
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| I bought a house in the suburbs
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| Next to the homie Wade, I made a killing off them birds
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| White folks straight mad as fuck
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| Because I’m rolling in a Benz and a 30.000 dollar truck
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| Yo, I takes mine, yo, when I shakes mine
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| On the real, the government labels me a flatline
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| And Uncle Sam gives a fuck about me
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| That’s why I’m spitting in this phase on the Ren LP
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| Yo, he more wicked then a horror flick
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| Think you won’t, high powered mandate to a five dollar bitch
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| Yo, they say America the land of the free
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| But the first thing I have seen was slavery, fool
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| So is you scared of me?
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| Four hundred and thirty nine years of slavery (Slavery)
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| And we still ain’t free
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| But we supposed to act like we’re living in harmony
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| (Bring it on, you’ve got to bring it on)
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| I pledge allegi' to the flag
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| When I’m rolling down the block in my ride
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| But it’s … it’s your rag
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| Yeah, I stick hand tight
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| I drop a kit to my nigga in the pen doing ten
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| I put a nigga in a cage, but I’m never on his back
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| While Uncle Sam straight stack
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| I wish they let them fly like the pigeon in the wind
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| But every nigga in the pen alive
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| With one point to get every 3−65
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| Say you gotta keep up, if you’re on the main line
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| You gotta hurt some, while you’re in the show-line
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| So if you wanna survive don’t let them eyes sleep
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| Even when you hustle on the streets
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| Yeah, break myself never
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| However, I’m in this so scrilla
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| The Clinic gang running thangs up, so I smoke trouble
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| Gathering up at the shack, cause Ren’s got my back
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| 187's got a sack, and I got a sack
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| So bring it on, we get the whole country high
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| Above the Law, the crooked letter, and here’s the plot
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| Then they get upset, cause we set up shop, in their hoods
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| And start slanging them no goods
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| We should go uptown, and poison the suburbs
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| Have all them white fellows straight going to the curb
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| Instead they slide down to our block
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| Just to get a bit of that Peruvian rock
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| Ain’t no gun factories in Gardena
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| Ain’t no poppy fields popping out in Pomona
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| I bought my steel from a white man
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| My works from the S-A-M
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| My interiors be looking hitting corners, uh
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| You with me?
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| Cause I got to drop this stuff tonight
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| Because I’m a truth terrorist
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| I’m a knowledge gangster
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| I’m a black history hitman
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| I’m a lie killer, urban guerrilla
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| I gotta be a roughneck
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| I gotta be a roughneck
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| It’s the only way I know to go |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bring It On , by - MC Ren. Song from the album The Villain In Black, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп