Pressure lyrics (Lyrics)
Song Details:
Album:Sheek Louch Lyrics
Pressure lyrics Free Lyrics Provided By xee-lyrics.blogspot.com
[girl singing]
What do we do
Ooooooh - what do we do, what do we do
Pressure, pressure - what do we do to do
[Sheek Louch]
Lets go
They say they want me to chill
How you rappin is like you sayin to go out and kill
I hear so much of this nonsense
Like brother you a role model, you supposed to rap like you concious
(For what?) Even if that was true, understand
Im a man before anything, rap is what I do
And Im somebodys father
Like if my baby boy in a jam I wont grab the revolver
Sometimes not even that
I aint sittin around talkin bout slavery is holdin me back
Out East you would think this the Western
I dont mean to be rude, but you can chill with all those silly suggestions
When the pressure is on, your morals is gone
Cant believe your face is torn (oh!)
I dont condone it, but Im willin to loan it
Just relax, go home, hit me up on the horn, got you
[Chorus: girl singing]
For this life... piece of min d
The streets are filled with priiiide
Too young to die, so the bullets fly
The streets are filled with priiiide - pressure, pressure
[Sheek Louch]
I know she tryin to be cool for her friends
I know he tryin to front for her in the Benz (yeah)
But he aint watchin where he drivin and drunk (uh-uh)
Hit somebody whip and dude talkin bout poppin the trunk
But cant go out like a punk (nah)
Shots go off, and his friends no longer think that hes soft (brrap)
[From: xee-lyrics.blogspot.com ]
Now its time for the bail
And momma got a slight heart problem cause her son is in jail (damn)
And no ones keepin it real (uh-uh)
The lawyers is riffin, block phone calls, messages skippin
And shorty dont even visit
She too busy in the mall with your re-up money, tryin to live it
When he come out shit he flipped
Cause his son is in the backseat with some other nigga pushin his whip
(Thats my son) This kind of pressure for real
Go t at least like 6 out of 10 blacks sittin in jail, damn
[Chorus]
[Sheek Louch]
This brother comin from work (yeah)
9 to 5, minimum wage, his boss is a jerk
He cant stand bein broke (uh-uh)
He get off the bus to get him a beer and somethin to smoke
He think about gettin coke
His family is hungry, its dead real, no longer a joke
But he aint made for the streets
This aint back then, these lil dudes now carryin heat
Think he can pump where he want, its the first of the month
Makin mad sales right in the front (what?)
Duke and them gettin mad (yo whattup?) things startin to get bad
Bout to follow homey home to his pad (him right there)
But he cant let that ride
He pull out the thing and tell his baby momma go in and hide
(Get the baby in the house) So many put on a stretcher
Im willin to betcha, its the pressure, cmon
[Chorus]
[girl singing]
The streets are filled with priiiiide
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