[girl singing]
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What do we do
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Ooooooh - what do we do, what do we do
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Pressure, pressure - what do we do to do
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[Sheek Louch]
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Let's go
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They say they want me to chill
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How you rappin is like you sayin to go out and kill
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I hear so much of this nonsense
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Like brother you a role model, you supposed to rap like you concious
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(For what?) Even if that was true, understand
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I'm a man before anything, rap is what I do
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And I'm somebody's father
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Like if my baby boy in a jam I won't grab the revolver
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Sometimes not even that
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I ain't sittin around talkin 'bout slavery is holdin me back
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Out East you would think this the Western
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I don't mean to be rude, but you can chill with all those silly suggestions
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When the pressure is on, your morals is gone
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Can't believe your face is torn (oh!)
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I don't condone it, but I'm willin to loan it
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Just relax, go home, hit me up on the horn, got you
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[Chorus: girl singing]
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For this life... piece of mind
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The streets are filled with priiiide
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Too young to die, so the bullets fly
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The streets are filled with priiiide - pressure, pressure
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[Sheek Louch]
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I know she tryin to be cool for her friends
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I know he tryin to front for her in the Benz (yeah)
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But he ain't watchin where he drivin and drunk (uh-uh)
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Hit somebody whip and dude talkin 'bout poppin the trunk
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But can't go out like a punk (nah)
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Shots go off, and his friends no longer think that he's soft (brrap)
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Now it's time for the bail
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And momma got a slight heart problem cause her son is in jail (damn)
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And no one's keepin it real (uh-uh)
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The lawyers is riffin, block phone calls, messages skippin
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And shorty don't even visit
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She too busy in the mall with your re-up money, tryin to live it
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When he come out shit he flipped
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Cause his son is in the backseat with some other nigga pushin his whip
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(That's my son) This kind of pressure for real
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Got at least like 6 out of 10 blacks sittin in jail, damn
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[Chorus]
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[Sheek Louch]
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This brother comin from work (yeah)
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9 to 5, minimum wage, his boss is a jerk
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He can't stand bein broke (uh-uh)
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He get off the bus to get him a beer and somethin to smoke
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He think about gettin coke
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His family is hungry, it's dead real, no longer a joke
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But he ain't made for the streets
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This ain't back then, these lil' dudes now carryin heat
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Think he can pump where he want, it's the first of the month
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Makin mad sales right in the front (what?)
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Duke and them gettin mad (yo whattup?) things startin to get bad
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'Bout to follow homey home to his pad (him right there)
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But he can't let that ride
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He pull out the thing and tell his baby momma go in and hide
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(Get the baby in the house) So many put on a stretcher
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I'm willin to bet'cha, it's the pressure, c'mon
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[Chorus]
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[girl singing]
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The streets are filled with priiiiide
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-----------------
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Pressure
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| Sheek Louch |
