Testo: Chief Kamachi. Concrete Gospe. Death Choir.

[Hook x2: Kamachi]
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 with 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 with 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 x2: Kamachi]

[Chief Kamachi:]
Old babe slang weed outta bribes stay on the porch
On the corner, youngstaz rollin' the dice, stay with the torch
My nigga 6-foot like to hoop at the court
Died at the hands of a crooked cop, excessive with 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 x2: Kamachi]

[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 with 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, cause so many that had

[Hook x2: Kamachi]