Pressure-Sheek Louch

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