How Many More Lyrics by Grand Puba

How Many More Lyrics

    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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