We got this whole motherfucker on a mission
Now the whole, entire world's gotta try to come up with a quick decision
They claim we threats to society
And now they callin' on the government to try and make somebody quiet
For the bullshit they done to me
Gangsta Nip, Spice 1 or 2Pac never gave a gun to me
So gangsta rap ain't done shit for that
I've even seen white folks from River Oaks go get the gat
So why you tryin' kick some dust up
America's been always known for blaming us niggas for they fuck-ups
And we were always considered evil
Now they tryin' to bust our only code of communicating with our people
Let's peep the game from a different angle
Matt Dillon pulled his pistol every time him and someone tangled
So why you criticize me for the shit that you see on your TV?
That rates worse than PG
Just bring your ass to where they got me
So you can feel the hand of the dead body
Nigga don't believe that song
That nigga's wrong
Gangstas don't live that long
Nigga don't believe that song
That nigga's wrong
Gangstas don't live that long
So now they tryin' separation
And sendin' black folks in white coats to infiltrate our congregation
Tappin' into our conversation
Saying, the message that they give bring forth or premeditation
So David's got a silver mag while listenin' to Brad
David gets mad and kills his dad
David Duke's got a shotgun
So why you get upset 'cause I got one?
A tisket, a tasket, a nigga got his ass kicked
Shot in the face by a cop, close casket
An open and shut situation
Cop gets got, they wanna blame it on my occupation
If you don't dig me then, nigga, you can sue me
Because the shit that I be sayin' ain't worse than no western money
Don't blame me, blame your man, Gotti
So you can feel the hand of the dead body
Nigga don't believe that song
That nigga's wrong
Gangstas don't live that long
You best to free your mind
Before I free my nine
And stop fuckin' with the void in pop
Or feel my hot rocks
Bang, bang, boom, boom, ping, ping, I'm the black
White boys gat a magazine and don't know how to act
I'll attack and make you vomit
Down with Khalid Abdul Muhammad
Do he got a brother, I'm it now
I'm the illest
Wanna kill this house, nigga, Don Cornelius
Can you feel this?
You punk niggas make me sick
Suckin' on the devil's dick
Scared of revolution
Need to start deuchin'
Houston is the place, I caught a case
Them motherfuckers tried to put a scar on my face
But I bust two times to the gut
To the Reverend, Calvin Butts, gotta pair of nuts?
I started this gangsta shit in '86
Now you dissin' me for publicity
Isn't he a hoe to the third degree?
Who me?
I'm a G who like to scrap a lot
Down with Rap-A-Lot
And I can't stop, won't stop
So fuck, Bill and Hillary
Ice Cube, there ain't no killin' me
Ice Cube, Scarface
Droppin' on these sellin' out niggas, doing it like this
Nigga don't believe that song
That nigga's wrong
Gangstas don't live that long
People Don't Believe (AKA Hand Of The Dead Body) Lyrics performed by Scarface are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that People Don't Believe (AKA Hand Of The Dead Body) Lyrics performed by Scarface is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD