(feat. Stacy Barthe)
[Stacy Barthe:]
We are dying, we are dying
Are we gonna die? Are we gonna die?
We are dying
Light a blunt, throw on Nas, collect my thoughts
Blow the candles out as I contemplate in the dark
Dumpin' ashes on the f**in' Time magazine
Tryna burn a hole between Israel and Palestine
All this world news, all these dead bodies
All these kids dying, the talk of illuminati
As I'm murderin' ink, I get a call from Irv Gotti
Say "Keep spittin' cause when you do it's like a 12-gauge shotty
Got machetes and them cannons loaded up
Got them Xany's and that lean in my cup
These politician's can come up missin', I'm on a mission
You hear them gun shots, now mother f**ers listenin'
Feel that you can take their life cause they ain't got a pot to piss in
Raise the Christian, k** you for these kids as victims
f** the system
You give a kid 30 cent and think you sponsor somethin'?
I feed a village by myself n***a Compton comin'
Purge
[Hook - Stacy Barthe (Game):]
We are dying, we are dying
(Sometimes I wanna purge)
We are dying
(Sometimes I wanna purge)
We are dying, some times I gotta purge
(Sometimes I wanna)
We're living on a purge
(Sometimes I wanna)
What if we ran through Beverley Hills, got 70 k**s
Ridin' down Rodeo in the Chevy with pills
And pop one, load 12 slugs in the eagle
And shot one, Donald Sterling hopped in his Benz
I got one, beam on the back of his dome
Palm sweaty on the back of the chrome
That's my adrenaline
So we purge Sandusky, purge Zimmerman
Purge every mother f**er rapin' women in
Purge n***as k**in' kids, back to back in two vans
Me and my mercenaries, middle of South Sudan
Carryin' babies bodies, long as I got two hands
Long as I got two feet, millions and my crew deep
We purge for the families, they d**hs ain't in vein now
Crash my a**, n***as know who shot that plane down
298 innocent lives severed
Flyin' on Aaliyah's wings all the way to heaven
And so we Purge
[Hook]
Imagine going to the stores without cops harrasing
Imagine Mike Brown walkin', them same cops just pa**ed 'em
I'm smokin' hash, and let me ash it before I talk in past tense
I hope his mama tears is like acid to your f**in badges
2 shots in his brain, 4 in his fashion
Thinkin' 'bout his casket in this Phantom, swear I almost crashed it
That's why I'm headed to Ferguson with this German luger
Cause I'm probably more like Nelson Mandela than Martin Luther
More like Ice T than Ice Cube, I'm a cop k**er
Murder all the cops, then the cops will probably stop k**in'
On my knees prayin', wish my n***a Pac was livin'
But he fell victim to the Rampart Division, purge
Cops k**ed Biggie, cops beat up Rodney King
We tore up the city n***a, purge
Or just stand there like J. Cole and shoot at cops in the same spot till the case closed, purge
[Hook]
This song is dedicated, to my engineer Jus' wife, Carey Jean who pa**ed away June 28th at 1.45 pm to stomach cancer, 2 days before his son Harlem's 11th birthday. Crazy how he mournin' his wife's d**h and I'm celebrating my son's life. I'll never understand d**h, sh**. Sometimes it's a struggle to understand life, sh** crazy. I'll never understand. Can't stop fightin' to survive though, but what we fightin' for when we eventually all die though, purge. Eventually we all victims of the purge. Us k**ers, what's keepin' us alive. It's a question nobody got the answer to. So PURGE!