- T.I. Pray for Me 歌詞
- T.I.
- Yeah, from the cracks and the holes in the pavement
Aint no hope for the youth, Lord, save me
Gotta smile through it even though you hate it
All I ask is that you pray for me
You know we always payin attention
Always out handlin business
****** in they feelings
Certain s**t cant be given
Ima go and get it, yeah
****** got they hand out,
S**t, that aint the way we livin, yeah
That aint the way that I pictured thirty hoes
And ten of us *** ***
See, thats the way we kick it
Twetny of us, and ten of us probably got an extension
Everybody playin broke cause they think I can fix it
Everything that you got, that s**t probably rented
I know my partners wit me
Aint no stoppin this s**t, the sky is the limit, yeahh
Who gon ride wit me?
Aye, who gon ride wit me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you lied to me, damn
Made it to the top from the gutter
Promisin the hood I came from itll never be another, yeah
Remember trappin in the hood, duckin under cover
Buyin hard ounces for my momma brother
Tryna block mine, boy, you get knocked out, hah
Im wit the s**t you know that you are not bout
Old ***** wit some long money
***** try me, Ima get it all from ya
Listen, I aint worried bout the small run it
Got my chrome on his dome then it dawned on him, dead em
Plans too large, huh, ***** get on your ass,
You put laws on em
**** that s**t, Ima still sic my dogs on em
Dont care how many police you call on em
Ridin wit my ****** til the wheel fall
If you got the dice, put it all on
Live by the sword or die by it
But sometimes you gotta fall on it
Hey, aint it funny how the dumbest **** ** know it all,
Dont it?
*****, keep it silent, you aint lived through it,
Dont talk bout it, yeah
Sixteen totin A-K, havin turf war
I got a record deal,
Started sellin **** for my first born, I swear
Look at God, wont he do it
Gotta run a bag up to Summer good
Til the bulls**t I did null and void
Skully pulled up, forty in my hoodie,
Hah, and you better not make me pull it
One thing about a sucka *****,
He gon talk cash s**t til he run into me
Drop a bankroll on his main *****,
Make her go and do it for me
No Hollywood, couldnt fake my life
Quarter million cash on a brand new jet
Crowd me, nah, nobody can do that
Slide a bag, sip on yac, and let em handle that
Trap ***** whippin work in a Bando
You violate, retaliation got me mando
I keep a pistol on me cause the bands I dont ran em
Numbers scratched out, paper runner
Strategy used to be take Atlanta
Spread it then makin it in Savannah
Runnin my play up the East Coast
I done tested the caliber, YFN Lucci
Kickin s**t in the Caribbean
Know you **** *, cant even open eye when you shoot
When you live wit that bulls**t, you die wit it too
I would talk but could not be alive wit the truth
When you owe me and then gettin fly wit it too
Bringin some action, survive wit it too
Swear, Im smokin on nothin but power
I get money and dodgin them cowards Yeah
Yeah, from the cracks and the holes in the pavement
Aint no hope for the youth, Lord, save me
Gotta smile through it even though you hate it
All I ask is that you pray for me
Who gon ride wit me?
Aye, who gon ride wit me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you lied to me, yeah
Who gon ride wit me?
Aye, who gon ride wit me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you lied to me, damn
This next beat is so god damn sinister that I dont even, ahhm
It makes me feel like everything
Its just that nitty, gritty, ****** dirty South s** t
It makes me feel good
This right here, this ones for the pull-up
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