Peruvian Cocaine Songtext
von Immortal Technique feat. C‐Rayz Walz, Pumpkinhead, Loucipher, Tonedeff, Diabolic & Poison Pen

I′ve heard whispers about the financial support your government receives from the drug industry.

Well, the irony of this, of course, is that
this money, which is in the billions, is coming from
your country. You see, you are the major purchaser of
our national product, which is of course cocaine.

On one hand, you're saying the United States
government is spending millions of dollars to
eliminate the flow of drugs onto our streets. At the
same time, we are doing business with the very same
government that is flooding our streets with cocaine.

Mmm-hmm, si, si. Let me show you a few other
characters that are involved in this tragic comedy.


I′m on the border of Bolivia, working for pennies
Treated like a slave, the coca fields have to be ready
The spirit of my people is starving, broken and sweaty
Dreaming about revolution (REVOLUTION!) looking at my machete
But the workload is too heavy to rise up in arms
And if I ran away, I know they'd probably murder my moms
So I pray to "Jesus Cristo" when I go to the mission
Process the cocaine, paste and play my position

OK, listen Juan Valdez, just give me my product
Before we chop off ya hands for worker's misconduct
I got the power to shoot a copper, and not get charged
And it would be sad to see your family in front of a firing squad
So to feed your kids, I need these bricks
40 tons in total, let me test it, indeed I Shit, this is good, pass me a tissue
And don′t worry about them, I paid off the officials

Yo, it don′t come as a challenge, I'm the son of some of the foulest
Elected by my people... the only one on the ballot
Born and bred to consult with feds, I laugh at fate
And assassinate my predecessor to have his place
In a third-world fascist state, lock the nation
With 90% of the wealth in 10% of the population
The Central Intelligence Agency takes weight faithfully
The finest type of China white and cocaine you′ll see


Honey I'm home, nevermind why our bank account′s suddenly grown
It's funny, we′re so out of this debt from this money we owe
Would've ya... mind if I told you I had two governments overthrown
To keep our son enrolled in a private school, and to keep ya tummy swollen
C'mon, our fuckin′ home was built on the foundation of bloody throats
The hungry stolen of they souls, of course this country′s runnin' coke
I took a stunted oath to hush the one′s who know
But CIA conducts the flow of these young hustlers who lust for dough

I don't work in the hood (Hit my connect)
Plus what′s really good, they supply for the hood
These dudes fucking crack me up, scrutinize like we inferior
Petrified when we meet in my area (calm down)
My dude's′ll shoot until I say so, got the loot?
Give me the YAY YAY like Ice Cube, so don't play with my llello
We won't stop for you bastards
Must choose (?), chop it and bag it

Taking pictures and tapping phones
Debating snitches and cracking codes
Past a couple, blast the fo′,
Want any hustler stacking dough with probably crack the blow
And my overtime is where your taxes go
I gain your trust
Get you to hand weight to us because we paid up front
On the low with cameras taping ya
Getting pop away? The prison sentence is going to
Make the officer leave with two ki′s out the evidence room

Out the evidence room Went my fame, truck, boat or plane, they watching you
You think you got work? They copping too
We control blocks, they lock countries
Ya own companies, we had nice cars and sneaker money
Now there's players out there, talking ′bout the holding
With bugs in they house like they down South with windows open
Your dough ain't long, you wrong, you take shorts and (?)
Feds will be up in your mouth... like forks and spoons
So enjoy the rush, live plush off Coke bread
Soon you′ll be in a cell with me, like Jenny Lopez
In school, I was a bully, now life is fully a joke
I keep a flow on a boat for Peruvian Coke
Players do favors for governors and tax makers
Fat Quakers smoke crack and sex acts with bad mayors
The walls got ears, you big mouths probably scared
Not prepared to do years like Javier

The story just told is an example of the path that
drugs take on their way to every neighborhood, in
every state of this country. It's a lot deeper than
the niggas on your block. So when they point the
finger at you, brother men, this is what you′ve got to tell them:

I'm not guilty. YOU'RE the one that′s guilty. The
lawmakers, the politicians, the Colombian drug lords,
all you who lobby against making drugs legal. Just
like you did with alcohol during the prohibition.
You′re the one who's guilty. I mean, c′mon, let's kick
the ballistics here: Ain′t no Uzi's made in Harlem.
Not one of us in here owns a poppy field. This thing
is bigger than (Immortal Technique). This is big
business. This is the American way.