Dead Presidents lyrics

by

Pete Rock


[Verse 1: Stevie Bucks]
I’m a product of my environment
Fresh on the shelf
I’m fresh on the shift
Trying to live a heaven through hell
I been on the grind
Why you think I walk with two cells
We make em do it first because we don’t know who talk and who tell
Damn, I’m the man like the man of the house
I’m fresh on the cheese, you n*ggas just an amateur mouse
I plan on the couch, and then I bring food to the table
I was broke, but my n*gga brought food to the table
Told me about a way where he is sure that I’m able
To flip Cubans, know some Cubans had my money stable
Ninety nine problems when I was seeing crack
Now I’m two behind of Jay, what you think of that
Cause the crack game a wack game, unless you want a pack
But these n*ggas go to Minnesota can’t play Favre
They retire next year, when they can’t go hard
Before I go broke, I call that girl and a get a blowjob
sh*t, I hope I ain't bleeding tonight
I’m from a building where, everywhere there is needles and pipes
sh*t, I’m going hard like the beetles tonight
My belly hungry and I’m just trying to feed it tonight
And f*ck the police, never want to read him his rights
They feed him the white, then charge him with attempting to live
It’s the system that I live in got me living bad
With my brothers, though we got different dad’s

[Hook: Stevie Bucks]
I'm out for presidents to represent me
Who’s world is this (x4)


[Verse 2: Stevie Bucks]
I’m a deep individual
Keep my movements minimal
Smoke a lot of weed, and I eat a lot of minerals
Don’t want the front line, send me to the General
f*ck if I die, we all die in general
I don’t care to be famous
f*ck that, keep working my anus
And they train us
To cut rats from the streets
Everybody spit crack, I put base in the beat
Better tie, your arm tight before you shoot it
Damn just lose it
Like your v card, through my music
f*ck the world, get yours through this confusion
To trap or die is just an illusion
Stop snoozing
Have a reason, or a visitor, a prisoner
Living a lie
Puffing the la
I live in the sky
Living to die
Question mark
n*ggas taking babies live before it gets to start
That’s why I rate all my n*ggas, all my girls that stuck with their yute
Gave a f*ck about the world, that gave a f*ck about you
Hold your head
Stevie bucks making bread
Till he dead
Have a dread, with the meds
Trying to clear my head
And I don’t want a reason, I just want the money instead
I was never nice, I had to move grungy instead
You better walk on your feet
Before you fall on your head
Save ten grand before you spend all of your bread
And don’t sleep cause n*ggas bugging just to crawl on your bed
I’m out for dead f*cking presidents to represent me

[Hook: Stevie Bucks]

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