I Gave You Power
…Seventeen precisely, one in my head/They call me Desert Eagle,
semi-auto with lead
I’m seven inches four pounds, been through so many towns/Ohio to Little Rock to Canarsie, livin harshly
Beat up and battered/ They pull me out, I watch as niggaz scatter/ Makin me kill, but what I feel it never mattered…
Nas
“I Gave You Power”
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3 Comments, Comment or Ping
Keene
If you ever listened to the song thoroughly, you will hear the cycle the gun runs through only to end up in the hands of the next person to kill again…
It’s funny how people call themselves “Gangsta” but be softer than wet toilet tissue. I know this because I came UP with alot of these stupid “niggas” only to see them go DOWN due to the reason they pick up a gun. I shared my childhood with a bunch of fuckin’ pussy’s, punks, and pansies. People you know for a fact that aint got a ” Gangsta” bone in they body. Through the influence of cmmercial rap music and the fascination of the false stories being told, these cats decide pick up a gun and without street credibility label themselves “gangsta”. Crazy how one of your closest friends defriends you because of his new label. Nas spit it so true. I can’t deny these “niggas” of their new found power. Shit, if I called them out in front of their new “Gangsta” friends, the audience is going to want to see how “Gangsta” they really are. POW!!! There goes the death of a true friendship and the new rise of POWER!!!
[Reply]
troublsome
Yo, weeks went by and I’m surprised
Still stuck in the shelf with all the things that an outlaw hides
Besides me it’s bullets, two vests and then a nine
There’s a grenade in a box, and that tech that kept cryin
Cause he ain’t been cleaned in a year, he’s rusty as clear
He’s bout to fall to pieces, cause of his murder career
Yo, I can hear somebody comin in, open the shelf
His eyes bubblin, he said, “It was on”
I felt his palm troubled him shakin
Somebody stomped him out, his dome was achin
He placed me on his waist, the moment I’ve been waitin
My creation was for blacks to kill blacks
It’s gats like me that accidentally, go off, makin niggaz memories
But this time, it’s done intentionally
He walked me outside, saw this cat
Cocked me back, said, “Remember me?”
He pulled the trigger but I held on, it felt wrong
Knowing niggaz is waiting in hell for ‘im
He squeezed harder, I didn’t budge, sick of the blood
Sick of the thugs, sick of wrath of the, next man’s grudge
What the other kid did was pull out, no doubt
A newer me in better shape, before he lit out, he lead the chase
My owner fell to the floor, his wig split so fast
I didn’t know he was hit, it’s over with
Heard mad niggaz screamin, niggaz runnin, cops is comin
Now I’m happy, until I felt somebody else grab me
Damn!
[Reply]
Boosy
cops could come but they can’t see me
niggas flash badges still can’t arrest me
Your man’s and em stay keep grilling
how a niggga gonna catch feelings
when the clown rap is so illin
[Reply]
Reply to “I Gave You Power”
SEE ALSO
♦ TROUBLMan - Kill Famous
December 10, 2007
♦ TROUBLMan - “He Did it Too”
November 13, 2007
♦ Cypher - *Bang*
February 15, 2008
♦ TROUBLMan - Theme Music
April 1, 2008
♦ TROUBLMan - Theme Music
March 3, 2008