Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Heaven Or Hell, artist - Salt-N-Pepa. Date of issue: 11.10.1993
Song language: English
Heaven Or Hell |
| Children play, women produce |
| Kids killing kids just for the juice |
| Now Africa is looking for the truth |
| But it’s gonna take a while to enlighten the youth |
| In this edition of the story, no need to bore me |
| It can’t do nothin' for me |
| Even Denzel Washington couldn’t find any glory |
| In the overcrowded streets of the city |
| I know it’s shitty, but I can do without the pity |
| (Baby never lived in the ghetto)…or the projects |
| But I wear my Tim boots and Hi-Tecs, and I wrecks havoc |
| And if you try to play me I won’t have it |
| Trix are for kids, this kid is not a silly rabbit |
| (Well) He’s standin' on a corner with his system pumpin' loud |
| Next him goin' off, scream in the crowd |
| A whole lot of screams, a lot of broken glass |
| Brothers like to wear their pants fallin' off their ass |
| Girls today don’t wear no bras |
| Little John Doe got a ho turnin' tricks in the bars |
| Grandma carries a can of mace |
| And she’ll stick a .45 in your face |
| So come and meet my man Brett (Yo, what up, Brett?) |
| He’s smokin', but it’s not a cigarette (Speak on it, Pep) |
| I wonder how the hell a brother lets himself |
| Get into somethin' he can’t out of? |
| (Uh-huh, uh-huh) |
| A lot of my friends are sick and tired (Sick of who?) |
| The police (Word!) rollin' on 'em, pickin' on, holdin' on 'em |
| Hopin' that they got one of 'em |
| It was a drug bust, but something’s weird |
| (Well, what’s the matter, Spinderella?) |
| The way half a million disappeared |
| Children play, women produce |
| Kids killing kids just for the juice |
| Now Africa is looking for the truth |
| But it’s gonna take a while to enlighten the youth |
| Heaven and hell is on earth |
| Heaven and hell is on earth |
| Who gives a damn about me? |
| (Huh?) Me (what?), me, yeah, little old me |
| Me, myself, and I |
| Live or die, laugh or cry |
| I’m all that I got, Pops, and that’s a lot, Hops |
| I’d rather rot in jail before I ho-hop |
| Go 'head, me, tell 'em |
| They may be hard of hearing |
| So keep yellin' at the top of your lungs |
| Now everybody’s got guns |
| They wanna be hard rocks and not be a fool |
| That buys a history book |
| Not me, I’ll need a clock, not rock to my hits |
| And that two-fifth click to my tits |
| And Playgirl’s gonna rip, and I’m-a have to rip shit |
| Ah, go for yours cuz you gotta |
| In the ghetto you don’t get a medal if you settle for the drama |
| She’s a gangster and the other terminal cancer |
| Ask too many questions and my Smith and Wesson will answer |
| Heaven and hell is on earth |
| Heaven and hell is on earth |
| Well everybody be damned, her father’s in jail |
| Sister’s on the corner screamin', «Booty for sale» |
| Mom spends the night gettin' drunk with her uncle |
| Her brother’s sellin' radios and toasters by the trunkful |
| See, every man she ever messed would wind up dead |
| Some might fall in jail, others runnin' from the Feds |
| (The only thing she ever loved was a piece of lead) |
| And that’s a double-barrelled pump underneath the bed |
| Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs and looney tunes |
| And some got sad songs, mad songs, and moody blues |
| There’s good news and bad news, military coups |
| A rebel with no cause in a pack of fools |
| I never lived in the slum, never shot a gun |
| But I’ll use one, don’t make me use one |
| Children play, women produce |
| Kids killing kids just for the juice |
| Now Africa is looking for the truth |
| But it’s gonna take a while to enlighten the youth |
| Heaven and hell is on earth |
| Heaven and hell is on earth |
| Children play, women produce |
| Kids killing kids just for the juice |
| Now Africa is looking for the truth |
| But it’s gonna take a while to enlighten the youth |