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letra de f.s.u. - wati heru

[verse 1]
sh-t is real and any day could be your last, son it’s shiest
in this land of no return, the gangs emerge from the night
cops lurk as i shoot the dice, i shake the jake and hit geist
low in the lights, rush your base, for the base in the heist
caught the come up of your onion, sold it double your price
spark the sour out in brower, stashed the hash in the heights
you know what it’s like
chinese water torture for your daughter
for the chicken, you was short of best to western union money orders
or this smith and wesson trigger pressing make you run your quarters
coroner reports and newport’s on these black corners
some sort of support for the sport of these black goners
imported a pound from portland, pour the taylor port like tap water
the reef addicts, reputation to reap havoc
the streets had us, instigated to keep ratchets
bud on the block, run in the spot, dutch lit up
another one with some locks, don’t f-ck with the cops, we f-ck sh-t up

[hook x3]
f-ck sh-t up, f-ck sh-t up
el ragga got the squad in here to f-ck sh-t up

[verse 2]
this is for my n-ggas off a bid, trying to come up off an ounce of piff
two beans short, getting change off of counterfeits
catch a tourist slipping in the city, get up out of it
back to the trap, half a rack worth of ganja zipped
dope sesh’ with the sess possessed by d’evils
to f-ck b-tches, cut cl-ss, and smoke mad diesel
never fessed up to c-nt, or confessed in cathedrals
but i been on the block, buddah blessed with the people
mobbing in your motherf-cking function
hopping out the dollar cab on junction
when i’m off the malt liquor, i want to rob a n-gga
or better yet i’ll get him for -ssumption
it’s a good year when queers get spared like mich-llin
when uticas yute shoot, poof, get your -ss back to michigan

[hook x5]

- wati heru

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