Salt-N-Pepa - Heaven or Hell lyrics

Children play, women produce
Kids killing kids just for the juice
Now Africa is looking for the truth
But it's gonna take a while
To enlighten the youth

In this edition of the story
No need to bore me
It can't do nothin' for me
Even Denzel Washington couldn't
Find any glory
In the overcrowded streets of the city
I know it's shitty
But I can do without the pity
(Baby never lived in the
Ghetto) or the projects
But I wear my Tim boots and Hi Tecs
And I wrecks havoc
And if you try to play me I won't have it
Trix are for kids
This kid is not a silly rabbit



(Well) He's standin' on a corner
With his system pumpin' loud
Next him goin' off, scream in the crowd
A whole lot of screams, a lot of broken glass
Brothers like to wear their pants
Fallin' off their ass
Girls today don't wear no bras
Little John Doe got a ho
Turnin' tricks in the bars
Grandma carries a can of mace
And she'll stick a 45 in your face

So come and meet my man Brett
(Yo, what up, Brett?)
He's smokin', but it's not a cigarette
(Speak on it, Pep)
I wonder how the hell a brother lets himself
Get into somethin' he can't out of?
(Uh huh, uh huh)
A lot of my friends are sick and tired
(Sick of who?) the police
(Word) rollin' on 'em, pickin' on
Holdin' on 'em
Hopin' that they got one of 'em
It was a drug bust, but something's weird
(Well, what's the matter, Spinderella?)
The way half a million disappeared

Children play, women produce
Kids killing kids just for the juice
Now Africa is looking for the truth
But it's gonna take a while
To enlighten the youth

Heaven and hell is on earth
Heaven and hell is on earth

Who gives a damn about me?
(Huh?) Me (what?) , me, yeah, little old me
Me, myself, and I live or die, laugh or cry
I'm all that I got, Pops, and that's a lot
Hops i'd rather rot in jail before I ho-hop
Go 'head, me, tell 'em
They may be hard of hearing
So keep yellin' at the top of your lungs
Now everybody's got guns
They wanna be hard rocks and not be a fool
That buys a history book
Not me, I'll need a clock
Not rock to my hit's
And that two-fifth click to my tit's
And Playgirl's gonna rip
And I'm-a have to rip shit
Ah, go for yours cuz you gotta
In the ghetto you don't get a medal
If you settle for the drama
She's a gangster and the
Other terminal cancer
Ask too many questions and my
Smith and Wesson will answer
Heaven and hell is on earth
Heaven and hell is on earth

Well everybody be damned
Her father's in jail
Sister's on the corner screamin'
"Booty for sale"
Mom spends the night gettin'
Drunk with her uncle
Her brother's sellin' radios and
Toasters by the trunkful
See, every man she ever messed
Would wind up dead some might fall in jail
Others runnin' from the Feds
(The only thing she ever loved
Was a piece of lead)
And that's a double barrelled
Pump underneath the bed

Some people wanna fill the world with
Silly love songs and looney tunes
And some got sad songs, mad songs
And moody blues
There's good news and bad news
Military coups
A rebel with no cause in a pack of fools
I never lived in the slum, never shot a gun
But I'll use one, don't make me use one

Children play, women produce
Kids killing kids just for the juice
Now Africa is looking for the truth
But it's gonna take a while
To enlighten the youth
Heaven and hell is on earth
Heaven and hell is on earth

Children play, women produce
Kids killing kids just for the juice
Now Africa is looking for the truth
But it's gonna take a while
To enlighten the youth