Death Choir by Chief Kamachi
Death Choir lyrics
(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 girl 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 the
mama to 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 The likely 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 (Hook)
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