Grand Puba

Grand Puba - How Many More lyrics

rate me

Pour it out

How many more gotta die

How many more mothers gotta cry

How many more locked away for life

Just tryin' to get a piece of the pie

The struggle continues, we hate each other

And we don't know the reason why, petty shit

Crabs in the back room, holdin' each other back

Until the day we die, uh

I been droppin' knowledge like this for a long long time

They don't feel me

When I strive to help the dumb deaf fly

Long as I'm sittin' bullshit is just fine

But when I speak on them, that's when they draw the line

Conspiracy is a theory, let's promote the black-on-black

Niggas don't know how to act

Let em' send each other back

Too many shorties dyin' everyday

Too many niggas bein' locked away

Realize what's really goin' on

And how the black community got so torn

How many more mothers gotta mourn

He didn't make eightten and he's livin' in the lawn

Somebody tell me what's that all about

There's too many shorties checkin' out

My nigga's locked up for a lifetime

Didn't even get a chance to use his lifeline

The game is setup for you to lose

So watch the po-po cause like Tom they cruise

Focus get cha' head straight, fix ya plate

Learn from others and don't make the same mistake

Know who you are, where ya at, and where ya goin'

The worst thing about life is not knowin'

Knowledge break it down it's know to ledge

Cause if you don't know the ledge you droppin' off edge

The hood drama is horrific

Enough ghetto tears for years that could fill up Pacific

I'm not standin' here tryin' to be no preacher

But each one, teach one, hope I reach ya

See I'm here to enter brain then I entertain

Those who lost one in the struggle, I feel ya pain

Cause everyday somebody else is gettin' blown

But we don't moan until it hits close to home

Hear me y'all cause the numbers seem to multiply

And that's the reason that I ask myself

How many more gotta die

How many more mothers gotta cry

How many more locked away for life

Just tryin' to get a piece of the pie

The struggle continues, we hate each other

And we don't know the reason why, petty shit

Crabs in the back room, holdin' each other back

Until the day we die, uh

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