TERRORISTS


Fuck The Media Lyrics

[Dope-E]
Yeah, getting ready to slash to media...
You see, what you need to do is start jocking the right information...

f*ck the media coming straight from The Terrorists crew
I don't love none of ya'll hoes so f*ck you
You never understand the things I write
Until you spend a night in the South Park twilight
I'm steadily trying to reach my black folks
But all you wanna see is a nigga with black locs
And you be knowing what the f*ck we be saying
And you know damn well we ain't playing
Now, as simple as that, stop spreading lies
Before I place M-60 right between your eyes (Yaips!)
Cause now ya'll got me mad as hell
And all you jealous pens' writing tattle tales
But I don't give a f*ck about your ass
See, ya'll just mad a nigga rolling in cold cash
I'm down with Rap-A-Lot, now I got a lot
And I'll be damned to let you f*ck over what I got
I kick that knowledge on a roughest tip
Call Egypt soft, you be bloody with a busted lip
All because I rap with a slang and hang...
With the South Park Coaliton game
Together forever, hard niggas real tight
Everybody strapped with them 9's and we will fight
Crashing bodies and throwin'em in the trash
Grab their pens and pads and shove it up their ass
f*ck the media...

[Bushwick Bill]
f*ck them mothaf*ckas, Dope-E...
(f*ck them mothaf*ckas, Dope-E, cause I don't love'em...)
Me and Dope-E are the world's first fully functional homicide agency...
(Them mothaf*ckas come on TV f*cking with you, man...)
You don't really wanna f*ck with me...
(Nothing but lies f*cking us...)
Wait till they get a load of us...
(Wait till they get a load of me...)

[Dope-E]
You ask why I rap about violence and not peace
Hoe, get out my face before I burn you with some hot grease
Yeah, Dope-E know the game cause I'm down
See, everything I tell you now later it'll be changed around
Now, why you wanna start some static...
With The Terrorists knowing damn well we cause tragic
Fatal disastors, you betta run and hide
Cause I play Quincy and inject you with some syanide
Catch somebody else, one by one, that oughta get'em
If not I'm forced to use another form of terrorism
Either I'm violent or silent, bodies still drop
Johnny lost steps up, no sweat, Nip kills cops
See, what you failed to understand I'm a black poet
A brainchild of this society so blow it out your asshole
Cause I write what I see...
In the streets of Houston and on the screens of the TV
And that's the way it is and that's the way it gonna be
And keep your distance and your hands off me When I'm in concert give me some clearance
Remember, fatal mishaps happen when there interference
f*ck the media...

[Bushwick Bill]
I likes the way it sounds...Hah hah haaa...
(f*ck them mothaf*ckas...)
But yo, dig this, man...
(God damn them sons of bitches...)
Them mothaf*ckas ain't never been where we been...
(Do they know who they f*cking with?)
They never seen what we have seen...
(Don't they know I'm their worst nightmare?)
Yeah, I tried to kill myself and got shot in a eye...
(I'm a type of mothaf*cka you think you see but I'm not really there...)
And then the media wanna ask me why?
(But all my thoughts are clear...)
What if I would put you under the same pressures you put me under?
(I live off fear...)
How would you like the microscope to be on your ass?
(All I wanna do is suck his blood dry and smoke some fry...)
Don't you know that the ghetto's nothing but a modern day Vietnam?
(And your mama wanna ask why? Hah hah haaaa...)
And my backyard is a concentration camp...
(Man, f*ck them, man...)
And you wonder why I smoke amp...
(You like to report shit?)
Because you mothaf*ckas put it in my neighborhood
cause you always up to no good...
(Report to get my mothaf*cking fist out of your mother's forehead...)
But f*ck you...f*ck the goverment...f*ck everything you stand for..
(Cause I know half of my body is Chuckie
and the other half is Bushwick...)
Cause you say that way...All the same, all created equal...
(And f*cking over media ain't nothing but child's play...)
Only thing that's equal is a fact
that you're white and know how to add up...Hah haa...
(f*ck media with that Tell-Lie-Vision...)
And some drag to my black ass from what's rightfully mines...
(I already know you telling lies to my vision...)
It's ok...It all don't have to make sense...
(And Dope-E is ready to light some true facts...)
See, cause I already know that I'm not all together there...
(And you are just straight up full of shit...)
But your psychiatrist put me there...
(Weather reporters...)
But f*ck'em...f*ck them all...
(We be out there on the streets...We are in the middle of a war zone...)
All I need is more knowledge, more wisdom and more understanding...
(Ya'll sit back behind your desk...)
So I can see even clearer...
(And send some other sucker to tell you some shit that ain't even true...)
And f*ck over your bitch ass...
(But if you keep f*cking with me you gonna know what is what...)
Yai-yai-yaiks on your bitch ass!

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