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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: Jay-Z - Politics as Usual

You know how we do, Roc-a-Fella... forever... You can catch me
skatin through your town puttin it down y`all relatin
No waitin I`ll make your block infrared hot I`m like Satan
Y`all feel a nigga`s struggle, y`all think a nigga love to
hustle behind the wheel, tryin to escape my trouble
kids stop they greetin me, I`m talkin sweet to keys
Cursin the very God, that bought this wreath to be
My life is, based on sacrifices, jewels like ices
and fools that think I slip, you fuck around
you get your guys hit, they built me to be filthy
on some I-do-or-die shit, for real
The price of leather`s got me, deeper than ever and
just think, with this here, I`m tryin to feel made nig-ga

Politics as us-ual... I took my
Frito to Tito in the district, blessed me with some
VS somethins I can live with, stop frontin
And for the dough I raise, gotta get shit appraised
No disrespect to you, make sure you word is true
I`m takin wages down in Vegas just in case Tyson
have a major night off, that`s clean money, the tax write-off
You ain`t seen money in your life, when it
comes to this cheese y`all like Three Blind Mice
A smokin bro, who pump Willie Ike spokes
The furthest you Chiles been is the Pocanos
My portfolio reads: leads to Don Corleone, nigga please
Ten year feleon, heavy on the wrist, our face used
with the diamond blooded Jesus and blind your face
youse for life... sharight, Jigga, I keep it tight nig-ga

Politics as us-ual...
You feel my triumph never, feel my pain I`m lyin
Low in the leather Zion, the best that`s ever came
The game changes like, my mind just ain`t right
We `gwan get this dough, I guess it ain`t your night
Suckin me in like a vacumn, I remember
tellin my family I`ll be back soon, that was December
Eighty-five and, Jay-Z rise ten years later
got me wise still can`t break my underworld ties
I wear black a lot, in the Ac`, act a lot
Got matchin VCR`s, a huge Magnavox
to nitch, green like spinach pop wines that`s vintage
It`s a lot of big money in my sentence
Hittin towards a mil`, lip a, written I kill like that
chick faked me one-two cat, yeah, I do dat
Ain`t no stoppin the champagne from poppin
the drawers from droppin, the law from watchin, I hate em

Politics as us-ual

 

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