Lyrics Don Trip – White House
Text:
Chorus:
Let’s go do a drive by on the White House
Let’s pull a home invasion on the White House
Well, about three in the morning we pop up on their lawn
Turn that bitch to Tha Carter
I say let’s go set up shop inside the White House
I say let’s go set up shop inside the White House
Is it me or, all the people we elected just a decoy
I know I’m the only person I can speak for
First line of The Constitution should read «We The Poor»
We lost but who’s keeping score
Guess I’m just another black man fly as Batman
Wish I had money like Bruce Wayne though
But I got that sack in then I hit that trap
And, hope I don’t get booked like Reading Rainbow
Niggas 5-0 in plain clothes
That’s if you ain’t know
You can see the Pin quicker than a nigga hanging clothes
I made it through high school to end up slangin’ dope
Meanwhile momma still tryna cope, gotta love it
Old school nigga gettin’ chewed like Double Bubble
Bad bitch hubba hubba
Clips like Nutter Butters
Two clip Trip, yes bitch that’s double trouble
Kick back watching all my friends turn another color
Chorus
Is it me or, are we trapped
I just watched them shoot a nigga eight times in the back
We endangered cuz we black now we got a shorter life span
Change the channel, time to cope
Silly you, go and vote
Let’s see who the government gon bailout when they go broke
Cross your fingers, maybe you
Hold your breath, turn blue
We put money in elections and take money out the schools
Where’s the logic, oh sorry logic doesn’t turn up profits
Unarmed black male shot down by the coppers
And somebody’s camera caught it
So the whole world watch it
Billion young niggas round here walkin round with Choppers
Cuz they feel like they a target, can you blame em’
Neighborhood watch shot lil homie now he famous
What did you expect from the people you neglect
I say they won’t take us serious til we standing at their steps in all black singing
Chorus
I guess I’m out of my mind, at the end of my rope
I’ve got nowhere to go, like I’ve got a hole in my boat
Say when it rains it pours, it’ll get prepared to get soaked
I’m tryna clean up my image, looks like I’m all out of soap
All for a slice of that apple you’ll find my knife at your throat
See when it’s beef you’ll get served. Did someone order the roast
Now I’ve got money to blow, ughh well not really
Put money over your head, you’ll be found dead before you get it
I’m with the shit I admit it, tryna snap back like a fitted
I just be who I am, ain’t no way I can fix it
I just watch from a distance, take my shots with precision
And if Jesus is calling he must be calling restricted
I’ve been through so much pain, I’ve lost all feeling
My little brother ain’t here, this year he would be twenty
Maybe twenty-one
Groupie bitches rotate shots like a mini gun
If money ain’t the bigger picture you must not be getting none
Chorus
