The Coup - Pork and Beef Lyrics
The Coup Lyrics
Pork and Beef Lyrics
(feat. T-Kash)
Coup, yeah
It's all good man, we off in the Oakland Hills
Dodging em' one time, check it out
[Hook x2]
If you got beef with C-O-P's
Throw a Molotov at the P-I-G's
Cause they be harassing you and me
Ya gotta understand we still not free
[T-Kash]
Don't trust the police, no justice no peace
They got me face down, in the middle of the street
Pistol whip me with the heat, chicken shits sizzling
Trying to serve me the all-you-can eat murder beef
I'm a young, black, heterosexual male
Don't drink no drank, don't smoke, don't sale
That's the real reason that they want me up in jail
They want me to fail, I resist and rebel
See I give a f*ck about the C-O-P's
P-I-G's I wonder if I can shake em' like a P-I-T
Cause they wanna see me D-I-E
Got me cash under mob, I'm a pre-O.G.
Dark Sobe associates, vicious, venomous vocalist
Chrome 4-4 toting, holding it down for Oakland
Folks do be smoking and shit we do what we holding
Some just don't notice they get demoted
Throw em' all the time music
[Hook x2]
[Pam the Funkstress scratching]
[Boots]
This is for them ladies with them empty plates
For that raise ripped that you didn't calculate
If you ever in your life been awarded to state
On the corner with cake
If they send an undercover and you tip the bag, huh
Next time I see em' with no hesitation
I'm peeling off like stolen registration
And leave a lot of smoke
See I'm that sort of folk
That been pig hunting since my mama's f*cking water broke
Cause they the henchmen nah they the lenchmen
Between the rich and puffs of weed known to trench them
Cause they dispense with the dollars and cents
So when you stand go get candles, flowers, and incense
Behind steel gates is fifty percent of our bill rates
A pre-kin making microchips for Bill Gates
Pelican Bay, t-shirts for the workout
Police station where the slave catchers lurk out
Listen to the thunder, I'm no more taking under routes
We'll synchronize and give em' shit to wonder bout
The DEA is filthy, yell not guilty
We need control of the cash and the realty
And get rid of all the motherf*cking parasites
More than weed burn at 420 Fahrenheit
Shaking in they boots when we start to bust
They ain't scared of rap music, they scared of us
[Hook x2]
Coup, yeah
It's all good man, we off in the Oakland Hills
Dodging em' one time, check it out
[Hook x2]
If you got beef with C-O-P's
Throw a Molotov at the P-I-G's
Cause they be harassing you and me
Ya gotta understand we still not free
[T-Kash]
Don't trust the police, no justice no peace
They got me face down, in the middle of the street
Pistol whip me with the heat, chicken shits sizzling
Trying to serve me the all-you-can eat murder beef
I'm a young, black, heterosexual male
Don't drink no drank, don't smoke, don't sale
That's the real reason that they want me up in jail
They want me to fail, I resist and rebel
See I give a f*ck about the C-O-P's
P-I-G's I wonder if I can shake em' like a P-I-T
Cause they wanna see me D-I-E
Got me cash under mob, I'm a pre-O.G.
Dark Sobe associates, vicious, venomous vocalist
Chrome 4-4 toting, holding it down for Oakland
Folks do be smoking and shit we do what we holding
Some just don't notice they get demoted
Throw em' all the time music
[Hook x2]
[Pam the Funkstress scratching]
[Boots]
This is for them ladies with them empty plates
For that raise ripped that you didn't calculate
If you ever in your life been awarded to state
On the corner with cake
If they send an undercover and you tip the bag, huh
Next time I see em' with no hesitation
I'm peeling off like stolen registration
And leave a lot of smoke
See I'm that sort of folk
That been pig hunting since my mama's f*cking water broke
Cause they the henchmen nah they the lenchmen
Between the rich and puffs of weed known to trench them
Cause they dispense with the dollars and cents
So when you stand go get candles, flowers, and incense
Behind steel gates is fifty percent of our bill rates
A pre-kin making microchips for Bill Gates
Pelican Bay, t-shirts for the workout
Police station where the slave catchers lurk out
Listen to the thunder, I'm no more taking under routes
We'll synchronize and give em' shit to wonder bout
The DEA is filthy, yell not guilty
We need control of the cash and the realty
And get rid of all the motherf*cking parasites
More than weed burn at 420 Fahrenheit
Shaking in they boots when we start to bust
They ain't scared of rap music, they scared of us
[Hook x2]
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