National Pastime

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No Babe Ruth, The homicide is our national pastime

We mourn the people on the news, Passing the time

I spread the knowledge, I don't wanna cast the pearls to the swine

I wish the lord could just turn this dirty water to wine


A true descendant of Pac, I might get shot 5 times

He got hatred for a brother, Saw the look in his eyes

He wanna kill a nigga, Take away  my soul, Tryna steal a nigga

I guess we taught him he should hate on a nigga


His lil brother was the fucking trigger

Lived in the funeral home, He was the gravedigger, He knew our fate nigga

It was a hobby so his mind didn't mind

The main story on the news, He just wanted to shine


His nickname the Grim Reaper, He decided your time

I'd rather die for my Air Max 95's

That thing called life is like a very steep mountain to climb

The homicide is our national pastime

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