You think God hears a prayer said in Hell Just know i’m doing life in a 6 square mile cell That i’m sharing with a 100000 sisters and Brothers Were sentenced to death for sins of thy father and being birthed here by our mothers And i wouldn't trade it in for the worlds weight in gold And they haven't built one like me since me i am told Shot my first gun when only a few feet tall i stood And it wasn't with my father out hunting in the woods It was in the streets of my city handgun in my hand Shooting at the other kids But you wouldn't understand See none of us had fathers Well our fathers werent a man It was a woman called our mother and we would struggle and It wasn't living it was surviving and we were constantly at war War left me nerves of steel and i dont feel much anymore And love is just a word that i say And i can't live it because i see it get people killed all day 3 little brothers incarcerated i dont say it for your pity I mean i can still get you stabbed behind the wall if you fuck with me I was born to die here in Flint And i haven't done that yet so in turn i ain't done shit But lie here naked in the tub Filling it up with blood Thinkin how i’m gonna get even While my body drained of love They tried to take my life at 27 I tried to take my life too motherfucker it just wasn't happening I just wanna shoot and bring a body back to Michigan Thats points on the board I was stayin up all nite when you would sleep and you would snore And they wanna say i dont deserve this I gave up my life to get here You wanna talk about purpose You have no purpose speaking They get killed for that where i come from Nearly every fuckin evening
La Petite Mort Tellem the whole story Tellem you surround yourself with ill intentions How its bad karma and it eats at you and your henchmen Father can you hear this I know i’m asking and i’m worthless Can you take the shackles from my ankles Can you remove the bracelets from my wrists Father can you send for me like ive climbed off into the wind And it carried me far away from here And i would never come back here again Father i’m a rolling stone And my daddys not around and my mamma ain't home And the law is always coming after me And its like i got the Devil on the back of me I was brought up in schools where they shoot each other in elementary 6 years old we put kids in the cemetery So when you go to bury me 100 fuckin men will have to carry me Why Ill weigh a ton Why Ill be carryin 100 fuckin guns Cuz we die before we run Money dont buy respect Money doesnt cure pain It doesnt take the scars out of my face its who i am Were not the same When i get down on my knees to pray the bullet wounds just ache in my legs I’m not supposed to be on the worlds stage People arent supposed to hear the words i say Cuz ive seen death and crying and suffering And you all speak but youve never seen a fuckin thing Cuz you are weak cocksucker and i am KING Or a God in this land as a conscious being You know sex still sells And drugs still sell But the truth doesnt sell never has never will I’m on the front line I catch the bullet first My Brothers carry me or bury me whatever works Why whenever you speak its from a safe place Cuz you dont wanna have all these holes in your face And you dont want addicted to how your own blood tastes You dont wanna have to get even for murder thats taken place So i’m riding around loaded gun looking for the enemy Pray that when i see him God do your best to help me But dont help me be the better man Help me have clear vision Help me have a steady hand Help me bring this child back to you And if his family seeks revenge well Ill be sending them on up too Before you have an opinion know you would never do what i did to get here Youd never save up what i saved up Youd never give up what i gave up left em layin face up So this morning when my Brothers woke Tell them to give my things to everyone i know Give a message to my father too Tell him i see his face on everyone i shoot It makes it easy to do…
La Petite MortTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
