Hemp Gru - H.W.D.P.

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H.W.D.P is the street's ideal
Punches after punches, we're always paying here
Voice of the opposition, that powers the anger
He doesn't go to sleep and he fights like a lion
That strength in him, born by the pain
Unites a crowd, even though the ground's mobile
Remember fear, won't brake the crushing shackles
You know that homie, because you lived through all that
H.W.D.P is the system's defect,
That's the effect, a double codex of negations
The first one's law, set by the government
The second one's us, the street lynching
A secret ring where betrayal is like death
In conclusion, my joint fires itself

[x2]
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Phrase that exists, my homie, on more than one wall
Some people here stab it on their skin
H.W.D.P I don't have to explain
With these four words we express our hatred
They humiliate, beat and slander our brothers
Frequently they put the innocent behind the grating
In many situations they overuse their power
And usually they remind unpunished
How shall we fight with them, tell me how?
Law is for the people
But not always on their side, brother
And that's a fact, impossible to disagree with
Tell me how much young people are healing their wounds because of that
You only need a prick to make something up
He'll present a story, sucked from his finger
A long list of allegations, only mere defamation
In that way you can go to jail

[x2]
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WWDZ a boy from Mokotow
People from the entire Poland will confirm these words
Chump is a chump, don't waste your time on the balusters
Homie, do you know how many dicks do these fuckers get?
Just a dick walking, sniffs, even though nothing is going on
Throwing tinware, laughing straight in the face
They came in the morning with a warrant, apparently someone saw something
They searched through everything, even whining wasn't handy
Orientate, because just one scorch can destroy everything
Because of jams, we're losing our close friends
It's a street, if you're not good enough then go back to the school you cunt
The entire settlement knows, that you don't talk with the dogs
Making a arrangement you bastard, I tell you woe
Without honor and rules, death in the fucked mouth
Death to confidents, that's the way I've been brought up

[x2]
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