| Yeah-yeah, sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I didn’t waste all these tears sayin' all these prayers
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| I don’t really care
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| Yo, don’t learn shit in school just wanna choke the teacher
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| Back on the block all I see is dope and reefer
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| I wave at the Reverend he ain’t righteous either
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| He a fiend on the low shootin' blow wit Meeka
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| Yeah it’s a crazy world, see how a baby curl
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| When there’s crack in the pregnant stomach of a baby girl
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| Neglected offsprings end of the zone
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| Single mother in the welfare instead of alone
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| Pops smokin' up the money, ain’t no food on the home
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| Now they callin' collect back in jail on the phone
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| The kid’s starvin', kill for everything that he owned
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| It get real hard, body showin' nothin' but bones
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| Smell the death, shirt sprayed wit the bullet colognes
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| Kneel down, pray on the trigger when pullin' the chromes
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| So twisted, love the sound of funeral tones
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| We so stressed out, got a smoke a few to dome
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| Yeah-yeah, sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I didn’t waste all these tears sayin' all these prayers
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| I don’t really care
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| Old babe slang weed outta bribes stay on the porch
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| On the corner, youngstaz rollin' the dice, stay wit the torch
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| My nigga 6-foot like to hoop at the court
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| Died at the hands of a crooked cop, excessive wit force
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| Abusive marriage to the block where we get the divorce
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| It’s like storm after storm but we weather the course
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| Yeah, up to a certain extent
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| But we look all high stumblin' on the corner, we bent
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| Dodgin' shots, unsuccessful murder attempts
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| When it’s time to go nobody is prefered or exempt
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| Heaven or Hell gots thermometer takin' ya temp
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| If it’s hot then you go below
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| If it’s cold Mount Everest glaciars of snow
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| I go the penalty, look at my face on the road
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| I’m in the outside prison that’s restrictin' my flow
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| That’s why I smoke weed like I’m free basin' the dro
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| Yeah-yeah, sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I didn’t waste all these tears sayin' all these prayers
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| I don’t really care
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| Yo, stick-up kids is out to tax
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| Caskets stacked for that white snow and plastic wrap
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| These the bul troops to help you make classic raps
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| Project pissin' hallways full of nasty rats
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| All the pain and the glory, shame in the story
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| How a nigga gettin' slained on the train for his jewelry
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| It’s still the same sin in these locations
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| After all these years of prayers and invocation
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| They like the invisble man beggin' for donations
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| They want me to go to war screamin' 'DEFEND YOUR NATION!'
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| Burn the flag, fuck Bush the fag
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| I’m in squalor, can’t put my hands on the ten dollar bag
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| Dreams of being a big boy wit a Colombian tag
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| So grimey eat the dead man in the crab
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| So slimey turn ya head then you get stabbed
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| Go head and try me, cuz so many that had
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| Yeah-yeah, sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I sing the song of the 'Death Choir'
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| I didn’t waste all these tears sayin' all these prayers
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| I don’t really care |