Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Pressure , by - Sheek Louch. Release date: 07.11.2005
Song language: English
Pressure |
| What do we do |
| Ooooooh — what do we do, what do we do |
| Pressure, pressure — what do we do to do |
| Let’s go |
| They say they want me to chill |
| How you rappin is like you sayin to go out and kill |
| I hear so much of this nonsense |
| Like brother you a role model, you supposed to rap like you concious |
| (For what?) Even if that was true, understand |
| I’m a man before anything, rap is what I do |
| And I’m somebody’s father |
| Like if my baby boy in a jam I won’t grab the revolver |
| Sometimes not even that |
| I ain’t sittin around talkin 'bout slavery is holdin me back |
| Out East you would think this the Western |
| I don’t mean to be rude, but you can chill with all those silly suggestions |
| When the pressure is on, your morals is gone |
| Can’t believe your face is torn (oh!) |
| I don’t condone it, but I’m willin to loan it |
| Just relax, go home, hit me up on the horn, got you |
| For this life… piece of mind |
| The streets are filled with priiiide |
| Too young to die, so the bullets fly |
| The streets are filled with priiiide — pressure, pressure |
| I know she tryin to be cool for her friends |
| I know he tryin to front for her in the Benz (yeah) |
| But he ain’t watchin where he drivin and drunk (uh-uh) |
| Hit somebody whip and dude talkin 'bout poppin the trunk |
| But can’t go out like a punk (nah) |
| Shots go off, and his friends no longer think that he’s soft (brrap) |
| Now it’s time for the bail |
| And momma got a slight heart problem cause her son is in jail (damn) |
| And no one’s keepin it real (uh-uh) |
| The lawyers is riffin, block phone calls, messages skippin |
| And shorty don’t even visit |
| She too busy in the mall with your re-up money, tryin to live it |
| When he come out shit he flipped |
| Cause his son is in the backseat with some other nigga pushin his whip |
| (That's my son) This kind of pressure for real |
| Got at least like 6 out of 10 blacks sittin in jail, damn |
| This brother comin from work (yeah) |
| 9 to 5, minimum wage, his boss is a jerk |
| He can’t stand bein broke (uh-uh) |
| He get off the bus to get him a beer and somethin to smoke |
| He think about gettin coke |
| His family is hungry, it’s dead real, no longer a joke |
| But he ain’t made for the streets |
| This ain’t back then, these lil' dudes now carryin heat |
| Think he can pump where he want, it’s the first of the month |
| Makin mad sales right in the front (what?) |
| Duke and them gettin mad (yo whattup?) things startin to get bad |
| 'Bout to follow homey home to his pad (him right there) |
| But he can’t let that ride |
| He pull out the thing and tell his baby momma go in and hide |
| (Get the baby in the house) So many put on a stretcher |
| I’m willin to bet’cha, it’s the pressure, c’mon |
| The streets are filled with priiiiide |