|
Da Lench Mob - Ankle Blues lyrics
"Listen now Blind Baby what we wanna go for on this record is not just a blues record - but we want a document. An epic document depicting the struggle of da black people against the white devil slavemasters." [Verse One] Sittin at the pad watchin cops Trippin off the pigs keepin niggaz off the block But don't let a nigga get got out the ghetto cause you know gettin caught out the ghetto is a motherfuckin no-no Cause you'll meet Mr. Boot, Mr. Feet Mr. Billyclub and (who?) Mr. Concrete Face down on the pavement Keepin niggaz out of Crackerville, they do it and they love it But vice verse the kicks And put the Lench Mob crew, on the other end of the stick Fee fie foe fum, the niggaz overcome Everything is numb and it's filmed at eleven It's like bustin caps at the bunny You get a buck buck buck, buckshots in the tummy They didn't have a fuckin clue (fuck you!) Yeahh, it's time to get the ankle blues Chorus: repeat 2X "He is the epitome.. of anti-disestablishmentarism" {*scratch* "What's your latest hit brother?" [Verse Two] We caught the punk pluggin on our block He looked like he's armed so I went for my glock Call up the homies, look like we got one Lay on the ground paleface, and that's when the fun begun We beat him down like we were loco (and said, "Fuck John Lennon") - (AND HIS PUNK BITCH YOKO) Steady takin charge of the neighborhood We got a nine-eleven call on another fuckin peckerwood We rolled up on him and he broke He looked like he was tryin to sell some fuckin dope Nope; we ain't goin out like that That's when I let his ass have it with the gat Shot him in his back, stopped him in his tracks He will never sell dope to another fuckin black (cause it's like that) It's untraced without a clue (fuck you!) Yeahh, his ass caught the ankle blues Chorus [Verse Three] Nigga nigga nigga nigga, nigga damn fool (MONKEY SEE, MONKEY DO!) House made nigga's on his way with a fat pay But the motherfuckers, paid for his doomsday We laid in the cut for some days Trippin off this nigga lookin like he's in a daze What do whitey what do whitey really wanna know? The outcome of a sellout, is an oreo - yo We hung him by his neck til it snapped That's when my homey woke me up out my nap (wake up 'loc) Wakin back up to the signs of reality Trippin off the shit that we watchin on TV Them motherfuckers think I'm soft (PSYCH) It's a sign of the Lench Mob settin it off It's untraced without a clue It's the niggaz, that's catchin the ankle blues! Chorus {*scratch* "What's your latest hit brother?" {*scratch* "What's your latest hit brother?" |
|
Last added lyrics |
---|
The Funeral of God by Zao |
It Ain't What U Wear It's How U Play It by Another Bad Creation |
Ghetto Bill by Master P |
Memory Almost Full by Paul McCartney |
Our Love to Admire by Interpol |