Tear Shit Up Paris (Rap) (Ft. ​dead prez)

[Intro]
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Hard Truth Solder Radio
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[Verse 1 – Paris]
You in tune to the most dangerous crew on file
Who get mashed mash on—bitch, get wild
With these field nigga serenades, we break wide
In the land of the weak, home of the slave, we rise
To protect. They servin' us with sticks and shots
But who protect us from these murderous cops?
Who’s heroes? You could keep your flags—I'm out
I'll wrap a chain around the precinct and burn shit down
Fuck the police, I'm thinkin' how to feed my seed
Bumping DP’s, bailin' down the block on D's
It's the same shit every day
Seem the more a nigga build, they wanna take away
Like a slave, when you can't eat you can't sleep
Can't seem to find peace. Only thing the streets see is police and poverty
Bitch, don't start with me—I can't fade
The bullshit noise that the radio play
Where the world wanna be like and talk like and act like
And rap like the black life is all gats and crack pipes
I’ll spit right. Nigga, what? My shit’s tight
Who snitched. Nigga or bitch to choose sides
When we roam, we beat back Attack of the Clones
What kinda shit y’all niggas is on? We hit home
And spill so the people could feel this real talk
From the Bay and all them between to New York
Holla