"Shooters in the suburbs, shooters in the projects...
I ain't respectin' none of 'em
None of 'em shot a cop yet
They're killing us on camera
And none of them have been stopped yet
They're manipulatin' our situation
We're buildin' their prospects"
My best friend said all of that to me back in '91
He was fresh out the marines amassing silent guns
I had paroled out of the clink from a 10-stretch
Been in our youth, we both were gangbangin'
We had been vets
Been threats
Been an enemy of the state
So when he came home talkin' organization, I could relate
He said
"Lil' homies with the colored rags in their pockets
Really be flyin' flags
Gangs are undercover nation infiltrations
But niggas is not ready for a revolution
They'll sever their own heads
Before severin' ties to their institutions"
I was pursuin' independence in our neighborhood
Cuz if we had an army and a flag, why not have stable goods?
Why not grow our own food?
"Why not sew our own clothes?"
Why not teach our own kids?
"Why not fight our own foes?"
Planned on taking gangs and trading their claimin' in for nationalism
See how the state dealt with some radicalism
When the Crips and the Bloods became a military performing domestic coups
Unified and mobilized, unresting, collectively fused
Every ghetto now a cover revolutionary cell
They'll respect us well once we turn our guns on them
Not ourselves
When the Rodney riots happened, my nigga said it was opportune
He said
"The time is now! We gotta drop some cops off in their tombs!
Take civilian territory stackin' massive body counts!
When they send the National Guard in, give 'em Hell in mass amounts!
Then, behead the president on live television!"
I watched this vision slowly shift from our collectivism
I had put in work my whole life pretendin' I wasn't affected
'Til that second I tipped the feds, executing my own acceptance
The Shooter Video (MV)
Tornup - The Shooter Lyrics
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"Shooters in the suburbs, shooters in the projects...
I ain't respectin' none of 'em
None of 'em shot a cop yet
They're killing us on camera
And none of them have been stopped yet
They're manipulatin' our situation
We're buildin' their prospects"
My best friend said all of that to me back in '91
He was fresh out the marines amassing silent guns
I had paroled out of the clink from a 10-stretch
Been in our youth, we both were gangbangin'
We had been vets
Been threats
Been an enemy of the state
So when he came home talkin' organization, I could relate
He said
"Lil' homies with the colored rags in their pockets
Really be flyin' flags
Gangs are undercover nation infiltrations
But niggas is not ready for a revolution
They'll sever their own heads
Before severin' ties to their institutions"
I was pursuin' independence in our neighborhood
Cuz if we had an army and a flag, why not have stable goods?
Why not grow our own food?
"Why not sew our own clothes?"
Why not teach our own kids?
"Why not fight our own foes?"
Planned on taking gangs and trading their claimin' in for nationalism
See how the state dealt with some radicalism
When the Crips and the Bloods became a military performing domestic coups
Unified and mobilized, unresting, collectively fused
Every ghetto now a cover revolutionary cell
They'll respect us well once we turn our guns on them
Not ourselves
When the Rodney riots happened, my nigga said it was opportune
He said
"The time is now! We gotta drop some cops off in their tombs!
Take civilian territory stackin' massive body counts!
When they send the National Guard in, give 'em Hell in mass amounts!
Then, behead the president on live television!"
I watched this vision slowly shift from our collectivism
I had put in work my whole life pretendin' I wasn't affected
'Til that second I tipped the feds, executing my own acceptance
I ain't respectin' none of 'em
None of 'em shot a cop yet
They're killing us on camera
And none of them have been stopped yet
They're manipulatin' our situation
We're buildin' their prospects"
My best friend said all of that to me back in '91
He was fresh out the marines amassing silent guns
I had paroled out of the clink from a 10-stretch
Been in our youth, we both were gangbangin'
We had been vets
Been threats
Been an enemy of the state
So when he came home talkin' organization, I could relate
He said
"Lil' homies with the colored rags in their pockets
Really be flyin' flags
Gangs are undercover nation infiltrations
But niggas is not ready for a revolution
They'll sever their own heads
Before severin' ties to their institutions"
I was pursuin' independence in our neighborhood
Cuz if we had an army and a flag, why not have stable goods?
Why not grow our own food?
"Why not sew our own clothes?"
Why not teach our own kids?
"Why not fight our own foes?"
Planned on taking gangs and trading their claimin' in for nationalism
See how the state dealt with some radicalism
When the Crips and the Bloods became a military performing domestic coups
Unified and mobilized, unresting, collectively fused
Every ghetto now a cover revolutionary cell
They'll respect us well once we turn our guns on them
Not ourselves
When the Rodney riots happened, my nigga said it was opportune
He said
"The time is now! We gotta drop some cops off in their tombs!
Take civilian territory stackin' massive body counts!
When they send the National Guard in, give 'em Hell in mass amounts!
Then, behead the president on live television!"
I watched this vision slowly shift from our collectivism
I had put in work my whole life pretendin' I wasn't affected
'Til that second I tipped the feds, executing my own acceptance
Writer: Torry Finley
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid