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  • Текст песни Salt-N-Pepa - Heaven or Hell

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    На этой странице находится текст песни Salt-N-Pepa - Heaven or Hell, а также перевод песни и видео или клип.
    Children play, women produce
    Kids killing kids just for the juice
    Now Africa is looking for the truth
    But it's gonna take a while to enlighten the youth

    In this edition of the story, no need to bore me
    It can't do nothin' for me, even Denzel Washington couldn't find any glory
    In the overcrowded streets of the city
    I know it's shitty, but I can do without the pity
    (Baby never lived in the ghetto)...or the projects
    But I wear my Tim boots and Hi-Tecs, and I wrecks havoc
    And if you try to play me I won't have it
    Trix are for kids, this kid is not a silly rabbit
    (Well) He's standin' on a corner with his system pumpin' loud
    Next him goin' off, scream in the crowd
    A whole lot of screams, a lot of broken glass
    Brothers like to wear their pants fallin' off their ass
    Girls today don't wear no bras
    Little John Doe got a ho turnin' tricks in the bars
    Grandma carries a can of mace
    And she'll stick a .45 in your face

    So come and meet my man Brett (Yo, what up, Brett?)
    He's smokin', but it's not a cigarette (Speak on it, Pep)
    I wonder how the hell a brother lets himself
    Get into somethin' he can't out of? (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
    A lot of my friends are sick and tired (Sick of who?)
    The police (Word!) rollin' on 'em, pickin' on, holdin' on 'em
    Hopin' that they got one of 'em
    It was a drug bust, but something's weird
    (Well, what's the matter, Spinderella?)
    The way half a million disappeared

    [CHORUS]

    Heaven and hell is on earth
    Heaven and hell is on earth

    Who gives a damn about me?
    (Huh?) Me (what?), me, yeah, little old me
    Me, myself, and I
    Live or die, laugh or cry
    I'm all that I got, Pops, and that's a lot, Hops
    I'd rather rot in jail before I ho-hop
    Go 'head, me, tell 'em
    They may be hard of hearing
    So keep yellin' at the top of your lungs
    Now everybody's got guns
    They wanna be hard rocks and not be a fool
    That buys a history book
    Not me, I'll need a clock, not rock to my hits
    And that two-fifth click to my tits
    And Playgirl's gonna rip, and I'm-a have to rip shit
    Ah, go for yours cuz you gotta
    In the ghetto you don't get a medal if you settle for the drama
    She's a gangster and the other terminal cancer
    Ask too many questions and my Smith and Wesson will answer

    Heaven and hell is on earth
    Heaven and hell is on earth

    Well everybody be damned, her father's in jail
    Sister's on the corner screamin', "Booty for sale"
    Mom spends the night gettin' drunk with her uncle
    Her brother's sellin' radios and toasters by the trunkful
    See, every man she ever messed would wind up dead
    Some might fall in jail, others runnin' from the Feds
    (The only thing she ever loved was a piece of lead)
    And that's a double-barrelled pump underneath the bed

    Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs and looney tunes
    And some got sad songs, mad songs, and moody blues
    There's good news and bad news, military coups
    A rebel with no cause in a pack of fools
    I never lived in the slum, never shot a gun
    But I'll use one, don't make me use one

    [CHORUS]

    Heaven and hell is on earth
    Heaven and hell is on earth

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