Guatemala

Album cover art for "Guatemala" by Weekend Money

Weekend Money - Rap, South Africa

Guatemala

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Duration: 3:41

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Lyrics

NE$$: Check it Flannel Plaid, Ripped Jeans & a Pair of White Stan Smith's Clean/ (I'm) talkin' clean clean Feelin' like a million dollars, take a flick-a-yeah we in Guatemala Verse 1: Haters Got Hate for me Uncle Sam got a cage for me "NE$$ you got a eighth for me?" Yeah baby, yeah baby wait for me Damn baby, cakin' like pastery Trapped in it, trapped with it Plastic bag on ya head, body bag with ya ass in it Mobbin' in Wranglers Rockaway beach got 2 jawns from Los Angeles Yeah we brought sand with us They brought weed, they got wax, fucked around made some sandwiches Both of them anarchist Talkin' all passionate All 'bout Dallas shit Background that Panda shit (panda, panda) Every election year propaganda Top off and everything sun tanning That 'Pac chain gold AK banana clip Chorus: Guatemala Guatemala Guatemala (Repeat) Verse 2: Dyin on these streets & I ain't even tryna be morbid Look at what these damn Camera phones did You see it Oh now see it Try to told ya suckas But now you see it Outrage Outrage Another young brother hit If it ain't that It's that Isis or that other shit Nigga fuck government Front page canidate on stage with some mothers of the brothers hit Waitin on the mothership Mama said Jesus coming It's going down like a whore in a alley Mama said JESUS coming It's going down like a whore in a alley & her knees is bloody (what nigga) Chorus: Guatemala Guatemala Guatemala (Repeat) Verse 3: Guwop outta jail Trump got these crackers talkin crazy Murder rates lookin like we in the 80's Kitted up Mercedes Baby Wippin Wavy like the navy She so supercalafragalisticated Chorus: Guatemala Guatemala Guatemala (Repeat) Ad Lib: Shit gon' get worse before it gets better but our future bright Outro Verse: 21st Century Blues News always Bad news Tear drop & tattoos Emergency room packed , packed Pews Iman wash hands wuduh You can count the murder by minutes Bars 'bout the crime wave surfin' on de Riddim I don't know what you did this last summer Me i spent it burying couple of my niggas When we die where we go God? Saying goodbye be like so hard There's a war going on & we soldiers Drug war, Cold War, Iraq war, ask Amar

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Credits

Writers
  • Ne$$ of Weekend Money