|
I came up in the hood, infested with teenage hustlers |
|
Street grinders, paper chasin', scrapin' busters |
|
By keepin' dust up noses an' caine homes, pipes an' cans |
|
So they want they ride candy, painted just like the man |
|
That Veta tryin' not to bite his hand |
|
But they need 'em to keep 'em life from they stand |
|
Every night prayin' for prayin' go as far as the ceilin' |
|
Got me feel like |
|
I'm cursed from this heart that |
|
I'm dealin' |
|
An' all this liquor hoein' brother an' goose-neckin' |
|
That I do but |
|
I don't want to got me losin' blessings |
|
God said He'll take the next two steps if |
|
I take the first |
|
I did but in it to pick an' sellin' the spur |
|
From under my feet, lost faith an' jump in the street |
|
Back to serve a rocks, dyin' to the chrome in the heat |
|
An' runnin' with |
|
Gs that take it to the block with 'em |
|
Tellin' me, along with my greens, up like pot nickel |
|
Well, all |
|
I knowThat |
|
I'd been down this road before |
|
It ain't the first time, won't be the last |
|
I gotta slow down 'cause |
|
I'm livin' too fast |
|
It's time to admit, |
|
I need some help |
|
Still livin' with my momma, can't feed myself |
|
Life ain't about who straight, who real, who fake |
|
An' who gay, it's about who pray |
|
You can clock my consistent an' endless efforts up |
|
Uplift me, trees an' branches catch draft |
|
When I'm choppin' down a path to walk down |
|
Actually don't even know how talk sound |
|
I'm tryin' to stop the next step, they drawin' the chalk 'round |
|
Matter of factually, |
|
I'll stand alone |
|
With no entourage to back me |
|
God is my every existence, exhalation, exactly |
|
I'll pimp prophets, so profoundin', labels don't like contract me |
|
I'm one of a kind, they gotta find a satellite to contact me |
|
Let us bow, |
|
I thank the |
|
Almighty God for right now |
|
For the strictor, smile through the tribulation an' trial |
|
For sparin' me when the |
|
Devil was darin' me |
|
An' scarin' me, synonymous for preparin' me |
|
An' to my family, the |
|
Dungeon Family |
|
An' ya'll family, we all family |
|
An' to me health an' home an' my son, |
|
KingstonMy tongue is my gun, revolutions already begun |
|
Well, all |
|
I knowThat |
|
I'd been down this road before |
|
It ain't the first time, won't be the last |
|
I gotta slow down 'cause |
|
I'm livin' too fast |
|
It's time to admit, |
|
I need some help |
|
Still livin' with my momma, can't feed myself |
|
Life ain't about who straight, who real, who fake |
|
An' who gay, it's about who pray |
|
All I know is charge cards, cars an' clothes |
|
Man, it's all for sure |
|
An' all could go an' when it's gone, you alone |
|
Runnin' up yo cell phone, callin' |
|
God forAn' who to say that day ain't all awful close |
|
An' if you ballin', playa, it's only because |
|
God's your coach |
|
An' it don't 'bout the lies you hold, laws you broke |
|
Things ya drink, dank an' cigars you smoke |
|
He gon' forgive you an' that's right |
|
Now don't get me wrong, |
|
I like LL, but |
|
God 'Da Goat' |
|
He da greatest of all time, if |
|
I'm lyin' |
|
I'm blindCan |
|
I get a Amen? |
|
But we got to stop, we got to stop doin' dirt |
|
Comin' to |
|
Church with a |
|
Devil tucked in your purse |
|
Sittin' some leather from |
|
Atlanta, came up finish the prayer |
|
Worried about sister, mom's an' hair |
|
All the way worried bout what sister, mom gon' wear |
|
This ya boy or should they ride the martyr there? |
|
It don't matter, at least that's the moral there |
|
In Sunday service, with a |
|
Bible, lie defer the |
|
SouthBut God bless her, we here to thank |
|
GodAn' that's the step inside |
|
Holy Church thinkin' |
|
I said step inside |
|
His Holy Church thinkin' |
|
We all God's |
|
Property an' not just |
|
Kirk Franklin |
|
Well, all |
|
I knowThat |
|
I'd been down this road before |
|
It ain't the first time, won't be the last |
|
I gotta slow down 'cause |
|
I'm livin' too fast |
|
It's time to admit, |
|
I need some help |
|
Still livin' with my momma, can't feed myself |
|
Life ain't about who straight, who real, who fake |
|
An' who gay, it's about who pray |
