Death Choir

(Hook) Kamachi 2x

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

[Chief Kamachi]

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...

(Hook) Kamachi 2x

[Chief Kamachi]

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

(Hook) Kamachi 2x

[Chief Kamachi]

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