Chief Kamachi - Death Choir lyrics

Yeah yeah
Sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
I sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
I didn't waste all these tears
Sayin' all these prayers
I don't really care

Yo, don't learn shit in school
Just wanna choke the teacher
Back on the block all I
See is dope and reefer
I wave at the Reverend
He ain't righteous either
He a fiend on the low
Shootin' blow wit Meeka
Yeah it's a crazy world, see how a baby curl
When there's crack in the pregnant
Stomach of a baby girl
Neglected offsprings end of the zone
Single mother in the welfare instead of alone
Pops smokin' up the money
Ain't no food on the home
Now they callin' collect back in
Jail on the phone the kid's starvin'
Kill for everything that he owned
It get real hard
Body showin' nothin' but bones
Smell the death
Shirt sprayed wit the bullet colognes
Kneel down
Pray on the trigger when pullin' the chromes
So twisted, love the sound of funeral tones
We so stressed out, got a smoke a few to dome
C'mon

Old babe slang weed outta bribes
Stay on the porch
On the corner, youngstaz rollin' the dice
Stay wit the torch
My nigga 6-foot like to hoop at the court
Died at the hands of a crooked cop
Excessive wit force
Abusive marriage to the block where
We get the divorce
It's like storm after storm but
We weather the course
Yeah, up to a certain extent
But we look all high
Stumblin' on the corner, we bent
Dodgin' shots, unsuccessful murder attempts
When it's time to go nobody
Is prefered or exempt
Heaven or Hell gots thermometer
Takin' ya temp
If it's hot then you go below
If it's cold Mount Everest glaciars of snow
I go the penalty, look at my face on the road
I'm in the outside prison
That's restrictin' my flow
That's why I smoke weed like
I'm free basin' the dro

Yo, stick-up kids is out to tax
Caskets stacked for that white
Snow and plastic wrap
These the bul troops to help
You make classic raps
Project pissin' hallways full of nasty rats
All the pain and the glory
Shame in the story
How a nigga gettin' slained on
The train for his jewelry
It's still the same sin in these locations
After all these years of
Prayers and invocation
They like the invisble man
Beggin' for donations they want me to go to
War screamin' 'DEFEND YOUR NATION!'
Burn the flag, fuck Bush the fag
I'm in squalor
Can't put my hands on the ten dollar bag
Dreams of being a big boy wit a Colombian tag
So grimey eat the dead man in the crab
So slimey turn ya head then you get stabbed
Go head and try me, cuz so many that had