Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rebels Without Applause, artist - Paris. Date of issue: 27.10.2008
Song language: English
Rebels Without Applause |
| Yeah, yeah |
| Haha! |
| I’m representin' where the sun set |
| Guerrilla Funk and we still ain’t done yet |
| T-K.A.S.H. |
| and the «Bush Killa,» one threat |
| One sniper on the rooftop, one vet |
| Now come get with this West coast revolutionary tag team |
| Republican bad dream, blitzin' the rap scene |
| Pullin' over Five-O, profilin' white folks |
| Rewirin' Diebolds, why you lie under oath |
| I’ma let the fo' pancake, drag and scrape |
| Drive by the county jail with a hand grenade |
| It’s a planned escape, Tomie Kash take the wheel |
| As I throw it at the gate for the Panther 8 |
| While you sucker butts trippin' off job cuts, I just |
| Keep a Glock tucked for the FBI |
| Like a Walter Reed patient, they’ll let me die |
| For my deadly vibe, but instead we ride |
| Real revolution, actual solution |
| You can clap if you want but it ain’t 'bout that |
| Hard Truth the movement, more than just music |
| The respect of the ghetto is where it’s at |
| See we make the hood mobilize |
| Rise up cause they 'posed to rise, ride on you cause they 'posed to ride |
| For the Hard Truth Soldier side |
| When you see this motorcade unload and drive |
| Come slow from behind |
| And let the automatic make a hole from behind |
| The rich stay panicked, but the po' don’t mind |
| If piggies get blasted, just those hasslin' brown and black kids |
| We some West coast classics, left vote passing |
| No wackness, no braggin', so active |
| Freedom and equality we gon' have it |
| Known assassins known for blastin' Dog and K.A.S.H |
| On and crackin', fo'-fo's and masks |
| For po-po's harrassin po' folks with passion |
| Hard truth soldiers, our troops home right now |
| Or the nine millimeter might blaow |
| Real revolution, actual solution |
| You can clap if you want but it ain’t 'bout that |
| Hard Truth the movement, more than just music |
| The respect of the ghetto is where it’s at |
| The hood know my name, I’m good with the game |
| If Cheney got shot then I would get the blame |
| Even though I didn’t do it, the feds can’t stand to see |
| A revolutionary with the ghetto influence |
| By the way I talk turf, and still spit the real |
| On the way they got work, for kids in the hills |
| But they only got purp, and pills where it is |
| Mo' liquor stores than church, the dead folks go on shirts |
| I’m T-K.A.S.H., the pride of the underground |
| Guerrilla Funk, never ride to another sound |
| Make a politician run and hide when they come around |
| Cause of how I instruct hounds to gun ya down |
| The government make scratch mo' |
| Than my home girl who be spinnin for my potna with the afro |
| Black folks stack dough, scratch the smoke |
| Subtract dope, add hope and vote, like that doe! |
| Real revolution, actual solution |
| You can clap if you want but it ain’t 'bout that |
| Hard Truth the movement, more than just music |
| The respect of the ghetto is where it’s at |
| Real revolution, actual solution |
| You can clap if you want but it ain’t 'bout that |
| Hard Truth the movement, more than just music |
| The respect of the ghetto is where it’s at |