Artist: Smurf Album: Da Ambush - Da (Pure) Hip-Hop Compilation Song: Pressure Typed by: jostmatt@bluewin.ch He walked in the club, a million niggas givin' him pounds While all the featherheads, they licked they lips and starin' him down He's not concerned though, he fucked a few, but he got a main one He used to play the corners gettin' panties till she changed him He came from normal hood shit, hands was nice though Punched out niggas' lights in most fights throughout live shows He's arrogant a little bit cause the way he visions it He holds heat but doesn't entertain the thought of gettin' hit Swiftly dipped through the crowd and all the people there Lookin' for his girl who had called him, told him to meet him there Heard his name in a familiar voice but couldn't see from where Walked in the direction of the sound and found her seated near The exit, she grilled him and told him to sit And started wiggin', said, "I see these chickens all on your dick" He went to respond but she started laughin' And said, "I'm just playin'" and askin' whether he remembered back when They first met in this very club in these very chairs Strugglin' to hear each other's words, music everywhere He said, "Of course baby, yeah," she smiled and gave a stare Said, "We need to talk, so let's walk and go get some air" About a block from the club they locked in a hug Son sayin', "We alone, now what's up?" She said, "Close your eyes," but they both were surprised When a gunman turned the corner, dressed in stick-up disguise Shoved his lady to the ground and put the joint to his eyes His life was on the line but what was even worse was his pride Wouldn't allow him to go down without a fight, so he jerked back Slapped the gun with his left hand, the hammer burst back Ricochet off the wall, the gun fell, the guy bounced Son went to chase him till he heard his lady cryin' out Blood-covered belly, ring was barely hangin' from her flesh Called a ambulance, two minutes later she's escapin' death The medics said she's fine but she couldn't stop from cryin' And her man couldn't understand why then She said, "Close your eyes," and she whispered "surprise," he opened them And said, "Damn!" In her hand was a blood covered sonorgram [ CHORUS 2X ] Under pressure how will you react, your hand's on your gat But can you find another way of handlin' that? When under pressure, no exit, in fact, the wall's to your back Are you considerin' the consequence of your acts? With one inside the chamber the youngster aimed his weapon at a stranger An older woman randomly caught in the path of danger Niggas said he ain't have heart, he was determined to prove 'em wrong By makin' himself do soemthin' he knew was rong On her chest he placed the barrel once he had the cream Told her, "Turn around, lay down, you die if you scream" Fled the scene powered by the butterflies inside his stomach He was runnin' fast enough to win the Indy 500 With the gun in his waist he ran straight toward the place of his ace Hopin' no good samaritan gave chase Thought he was saved face when he told these niggas what he done But they was like, "Man, go 'head with your bitch ass, son" "Anyone can stick a old lady, you really on some thief shit Then go and stick one of them next niggas that we got beef with" He couldn't believe it, his so-called friends Didn't appreciate the risk that he had taken for them Nevertheless he plotted, once the nigga was spotted He cornered him as he walked through the alley by his appartment Nervously he clutched the heater as he tried to play cool Took his money, made him run his ( ??? ) and ( ??? ) jewels Jetted up the alley, believed that his duty was done And in the process he didn't have to murder no one At that second a bullet blast through the back of his lungs In all his nervousness the kid forgot to pat for a gun Another son and brother no longer among the livin' mass The real problem's there's only a few of any who ask Is it homicide of suicide that left his frame froze? Was he murdered by that nigga or the path that he chose? What degree of beef justifies blastin' your foes? Caskets are closed while the number of casualties gross From my block to yours, a similar madness we know The saga of another kid ends tragically so [ CHORUS ]