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Versuri melodii artisti internationali
Cruisin' for a bruisin' I'm talkin' no crap  
 Pipe bomb in my trunk got a nine in my lap  
 I'm layin' for a sprayin' tonight there's no playin'  
 My posse's most strapped tonight the crew's weighin'  
 Dust is burnin' the steering wheel's turnin'  
 I'm out a week I'm already earnin'  
 Suckers crossed tonight it's their loss  
 Payback time boy life's the cost  
 Gauges out the window one lay cross the roof  
 They all die if those suckers ain't bullet proof  
 I'm rollin' death tollin',of course the car's stolen  
 But I'm blind to what's wrong,all I want is what's golden  
 A fool in a fight,too dumb to know right  
 Fuckin' blue light-read'em their rights  
  
 Drama (x4)  
  
 Copped an alias bailed out in an hour or less  
 I keep a bank for that don't know about the rest  
 Copped another piece,hit the dark streets  
 Rollin' once again,fuck the damn police  
 Called up my friend JOE, a roof job pro,459 on his mind car stereos  
 He said the spot was sleep,he cased the joint a week  
 3 a.m. on the dot inside we creep  
 Got Alpines,Fishes,JVC's,  
 Motorola Phones,Sony Color TV's  
 Had the hide packed up till we heard freeze  
 Fuckin' blue lights-read'em their rights  
  
 Drama (x4)  
  
 4 in the morning,lights in my face  
 That's the time,you know the place  
 Cuffed in the room with the two-way glass  
 Detects in effect cold doggin' my ass  
 "What's your date of birth?"..."What's your real name?"  
 I stuck to my alias,I know the game  
 If they don't know who you are,then they don't know what you've done  
 "You're just makin' this harder on yourself,son"  
 I know this shit by heart,I'm too clever  
 "Have you ever been arrested before?"  
 "Nope,never"  
 Da reject all over his face  
 You see no confession,no case  
 Then my boy started illin',talkin' and tellin'  
 Son of a bitch-he was a snitch  
  
 Drama (x6)  
  
 Under I went,I caught a case and half  
 He dropped the mallet,then the judge laughed  
 Now I'm in the penzo,chillin' like a real pro  
 I can't move until the man says go  
 A puppet of the big game,an institutional thing  
 I wouldn't be here if I fed my brain  
 Got knowledge from school books,instead of street crooks  
 Now all I get is penitentiary hard looks  
 The joint is like an oven of caged heat  
 You're just a number,another piece of tough meat  
 Killers and robbers are all you great  
 Act soft you will get beat  
 On death row they got their own hot seat  
 For those who feel that they are truly elite  
 The last thing you see's a priest  
 The lights dim-your life ends  
  
 Drama
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