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War (Jeru the Damaja Remix)
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Overground old school hip hop from England
The Boney Boys are two white middle class kids from the (not) Ghetto of England making hip-hop. Joe aka JZT does computer trickery and emceeing and Mike aka D-IKE plays live drums and emcees. We play it old school.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Old School
Charts
Peak #2,068
Peak in subgenre #38
Author
Jeru the Damaja/Turner
Rights
Joe Turner
Uploaded
April 05, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.7 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
[Verse 1: Jeru] War, my skills is this spelt backwards I perform for the white kids but do this for the black kids To get this ill takes practice I'm takin' over the industry with ghetto guerilla tactics Hard times build muscle like lactic acid Some entertainers are losin' they minds makin' pornos pissin' on kids The streets is real save the theatrics I still treat a bitch like a bitch while y'all niggaz is doin' backflips I can't trip I guess it's part of the game like Ja-Rule bitin' my name like MJ goin' up in flames like chickens suckin' dick for fame As things change I remain the same tryin' to keep sane No many strugglin' to maintain The stress of ghetto livin' can bust ya brain It seems the road is paved with less joy than pain I wanna regress but I refrain If I don't I rage war Right here in the streets of New York Some talk the talk, but don't walk the walk Like Muslims at the corner store selling pork My little brother still out blind and chalk They went from forties to the champagne court Videos and true lies makin' all the birds squalk Little girls butt naked so the predators stalk My man say he was guard holdin' the devil's pitchfork That's why I'm throwin' rhymes like Geronimo's tomahawk [Verse 2: Jeru] War, many shout it but don't wanna see it I stay low and lay boobytraps like the cong in Viet Norm loud talk in the stairs can't do me harm Know some niggaz wanna stop it I'm still droppin' the bomb Shit is death like Tennessaucee ring the alarm It's still a mystery to you like the 80 seconds song Some fight 'til the end some sell out like Uncle Tom So much contempt others explode like they jelly like napalm War, is more than hand to hand and firearms It's only won when the mind is calm So I study Sun-Tzu and stopped smokin' chron' In my left hand riches, long life in my right palm
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