Verse of The Week

Not much to chose from for Verse of The Week honors this week. I chose this verse from Termanology from his "We Killin' Ourselves" joint off his album that drops on Tuesday, Politics As Usual.

Verse of The Week

He was a younger cat,
seen about 100 gats
Only really held a couple,
but he wasn't scared to hustle
'Cause he figured that, if you want your wig intact,
you wouldn't fuck with the cat with the gorilla mack
So he stole Prada,
and he kept his nose powder
Caught his first body, had to take a cold shower
What's the word? Then he body an old timer
Caught a third, now he runnin' like Obama
These are our kids, growing up with no father,
no momma, no honor, no faith, no karma
and they sight just like the Northern Lights
on the corner nights where dice games are more than shiest
Kids look up to Pac, livin' the mortal life
Wanna be 50, but they don't really wanna get busy
Young boys kill over pussy,
money, and gang colors
Cocaine lovers, baby mommas insane jealous
We cane sellers, or we stickin' up bank tellers
Take a chance, shootin' with cops who aim better,
and they ain't let up, six shots into a sedan
America's worse nightmare, guns in kid's hands.
(Termanology, We Killin' Ourselves, Verse 2)

Audio: We Killin' Ourselves-Termanology ft Pete Rock

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