Street Preacha Songtext

von T-Bone

Street Preacha

Verse 1

My lyrics phat like Don Cartagina, you never seen a Latino Rapper pick up tha mic and eat
MCs like helatina, from tha Bay area down to Argentina, I be slangin' these lyrics in tha
Crack houses like it was cocaine, mira mija la firme Linya de rap familia, no son Gallinas,
Killin' demons is a mistamina, so we ain't scared of y'all, we lived above tha law, now we
Got pimps, addicts, thugs and these gustlers at tha altar call, praying saying things like
Forgive me for my evil ways then, get off they knees and be delivered from 12 years of
Blazing, praising tha Name of Christ, ain't scared to give to give my life away, for tha One
Who died on tha cross and saved me when my life was triff, now it's alright, God wrote
These lyrics peep the copyright, building an army in a world that's dark so we can bring tha
Light, raising veteranos Christianos that we call Hermanos, deadly like rattle snakes but
Worse when mics are in our manos, en mi cara no dicen nada, puro Amenasadas, wack
Envoyous rappers wann bite like thousand piranhas, I bring tha heat like a sauna filled wit
Cubana mammas from Havana, oye como va, whe I rock like Satana.

Verse 2

I stay humble and meek, get on my knees and wash my brethren's feet, you quick to
Speak and judge, I'm quick to turn tha other cheek, forgive my foes 479x's then add 11, just
To equal 70x7, Rap Reverend, preachin' sermons to those thug living, killing, sinning,
Feeling that they could never be forgiven, ghetto prison is where they living so I make
Isistions, cut to the heart, then operate, tell 'em tha sons Arizona if you ain't getting' what I
Be spittin', get me grab weapon, sawed off K.J.V., wit 66 clips that are made for hitting,
Straight to tha heart for we wrestle not against flesh and blook, saved thug, blastin' patnas
Wit God's love, pump, pump, you get struck, when I dump, wit tha pump sawed off, tha old
Man gets hauled off, and that preaching at its best, from tha Westside, do or die, preachin'
Christ crucified.

Hook

One of tha las street preachas left, poet assassin, (what) scarface in tha flesh, straight out
Tha West, where they ride on they enemies, striptease, pour out liquor for tha diseased and
Jack for car keys.

Verse 3

What up mamma, it's tha Rap Papa, Don Dadda, tha one who used to smoke grama, from
Nicaragua, sip champana in tha sauna hollering Hey Caramba, now I'm tha redeemed
Hoodlum telling 'em Cristo to ama, I'm a bring tha drama, like Tony Montana, cuz when
Demons step to me they get cut worse than shrimp at BenniHannas, back in tha day we'ed
Hit weed and smoke roaches, but we ain't no playas, tell 'em why, we some coaches, I get
Ferocious, then I bury all you cochroaches, gt bent off tha Holy Ghost and take it by tha
Doses, Bibles in my holsters, seen me on tha poster, devil outlined in tha chalk, I walk tha
Walk and talk tha talk, Jehovah knows this, being a Christians on a day 2 day, forget tha
Halfway, can't havler praise tha Lord, then smoke and sip tha alizay, or tangaree, or you'll
Get blown up like a hand granade, I ain't afraid, I slit the devils throat wit my switchblade.