How many suckas dying tonight before we say it's not right How many suckas dying tonight before we say it's not right How many people dying tonight before we say it's not right How many people dying tonight before we say it's not right
I need a pastor, I need a deacon I think I found Jesus My mind's on the thesis I'm staying based I need it But these niggas out-ree-gis I was playing on defense Switch courts, I switched sides Nah, we not even I said we not even
I said we not even I think I need the deacon I think I need the deacon I'm dreaded like a rasta I need the sh- like the opera I hit you bitches with the choppa Then ride up on you with my rastas
Fuck with me man, the townspeople We rocking to this gutta shit live
How many suckas dying tonight before we say it's not right How many suckas dying tonight before we say it's not right How many these bitches dying tonight before we say it's not right How many these bitches dying tonight before we say it's not right