The Pistol (Clean Version) lyrics

by

​dead prez


Dead prez ft. Maintain - “The Pistol”
[Produced by Lord Jamar]
[Mixed by Christos Tsantilis]
[Recorded by Christos Tsantilis]

[Intro: [?]]
Yeah, for real. Long time, poor people have suffered. And check this: long time, we fighting. Even pull out gun for the food, see?

[Hook 1: stic.man]
We ain't trying to hear sh*t but what? (Cash money)
The whole world operating off of (Cash money)
To all my n*ggas with a whole lot of (Cash money)
Watch your back, money

[Verse 1: stic.man]
You couldn't never
Understand how my mind tick. I'm on some old school
Crime sh*t, where n*ggas hold tools to keep their dimes lit
Ain't no rules with these iron shots of stone, dun
This heat burn through your flesh, straight to the bones
I’ll reach for the Buddha cess and zone. I’ll probably have
A future of stress, stay depressed, and be alone
But, as far as the present time, it’s on. I’ll represent
Mines ‘til I return to the essence and I'm dead and gone
Nobody want to be broke and you neither
Put me on the corner, watch me catch a quick case of cream fever
If you be popping sh*t, my n*ggas won't believe ya
Probably punch you in the face and take your wallet when we see ya
But son, it gets deeper. I'm running with a clique that's being
Hunted by the grim reaper. To all my peoples
In the man keeper, let your situation be a teacher
Ain't nothing like a education. When I was locked down
I learned about patience and dedication
And not to say sh*t unless you need a motherf*cking face lift
And, as a youth, I was a outcast, running ‘round
With pellet guns, playing War, but now it's all about cash
[Hook 2: stic.man]
I'm caught up, caught up and amidst this sh*t
And I ain't trying to hear sh*t, son. My crew got cash to get
Blast you with the pistol if I have to
In my mind, it’s all about cash in the fistful (Fistful)
I'm caught up and amidst this sh*t
And I ain't trying to hear sh*t, dun. My crew got cash to get
Splash you with the pistol if I have to
In my mind, it’s all about cash in the fistful

[Verse 2: M1]
Up late night
And upset, I’m fed up. n*ggas is coming up
Wet. I'm dead up. f*ck trying to keep your head up
And when it go down, word bond, we got to dead up
Too many locked down upstate—son, it’s a set up
My life has sped up many years—I'm straight up
Plenty beers for who ain't here and those who ate up
Test and get sprayed up in the club. We couldn't run it
So we take the blade up in the booth since we couldn't shoot
We heat it up, losing the shirt, showing the bare chest
I'm blessed. Puffing the skunk make me care less
The best that you can do is duck my f*cking crew
If the slugs don't get ya, Lord J'll dig ya
Acting artificial get you burnt by the pistol
Before it’s done, even my guns'll turn to missiles
Don't have to blow the whistle on you ‘cause everybody knows
You got to watch yourself around borderline psychos
Who know my people got to hold a mint or they ain't worth a cent
How can you represent if you can't pay the rent?
And leave a dent in my lifetime. I'm caught up
In trife crime. In fights you never know what you might find
We stand firm, meanwhile, ‘cause n*ggas that seem wild
Be bucking blanks. If they was men, they wouldn't f*ck with pranks
I’ll leave them n*ggas alone and stay home until
It cool down and they remember how my tool sound
[Hook 2: stic.man]
Caught up and amidst this sh*t
And I ain't trying to hear sh*t, son. My crew got cash to get
Blast you with the pistol if I have to
In my mind, it’s all about cash in the fistful (Fistful)
Caught up and amidst this sh*t
And I ain't trying to hear sh*t, son. My crew got cash to get
Splash you with the pistol if I have to
In my mind, it’s all about cash in the fistful

[Hook 1: stic.man]
We ain't trying to hear sh*t but what? (Cash money)
The whole world operating off of (Cash money)
To all my n*ggas with a whole lot of (Cash money)
Watch your back, money

[Interlude 1: stic.man]
Yeah, we up on what we dealing with. We ain't no criminals. We got the right to have gats. Long as the army, navy, air force, marine got gats, we gon' hold heat, know’m saying? ‘Cause our army got to represent for us. Word up. Ayyo, Maintain (Yeah). Set that sh*t, son

[Verse 3: Maintain]
Forever keeping
My sh*t c*cked for drama. Stainless steel, sh*t is for real
The way these rats is known to squeal, making sour deals
Thugs up and amidst of these drugs, caught up in the humble
Bricks and paper by the bundle how the Bronx rumble
Plagues spreading. Devils get deaded, never regret it
Only known to set it. Still in existence, obviously you’re jetted
Speak the desert, I’ll see the pyramid and eagle
Back of the dollar bill. Ill deceitful, we consider lethal
God falling, n*ggas be pouring, guzzling alcoholics
Two drinks. Too many's like whitey infiltrating your fortress
sh*t is on. We’re 'bout to form. Best prepare
For the storm. Y’all funny n*ggas quick to ring the alarm
Bomb fell, and now a nation is gel. We had to dwell
For four hundred or more. The Lord had the righteous living poor
Resurrecting the true and living back to power
Devils getting devoured, n*ggas heard the God holler
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