YP - Let Us Pray

(Your Problem)


Now I ain't never tried to hold back
Come to me, I'm where the dope at
They threw me a couple of pounds, hold that
Took it to the crib and I broke it down like a low Jack
I'm from a city full of broke cats
I know always gotta go back
Paper chasing and steady checking the road map
See how much I made today, go try to fold that
I'm drowed up and drinking plenty
Play the cards and look at how life is dealing with me
Don't got a heart, I'm paralyzed, but you don't hear me
Since I lost my son I lost a feeling in me
Now let me hear a nigga talk tough
And they gon' have to put the chalk up
Think about it, I move it a cutie and salt bus
And in the winter time I push through, like salt trucks
But I be looking at it this way
I put my life in every lyric on a mixtape
You getting dough or you getting lost, comprende?
Prolly got a hawk and I'm on the bike like the ken bay
Thanking god I ain't an inmate
And tryina get a set of templates
Superman ain't never taking off this cake
Never sold a yay in a bitch who thinking of kim kay

Now I lay me down to sleep
I just want a pound a week
And not to sell it off for cheap
I hope my circle never turning dish
If I should die before I wake just let me say
You don't do shit but motivate, I love to hate
I don't give a fuck anyway, I'm getting paid
Just hoping I make it through any day
Now LET US PRAY

Now I ain't never try to lie to you
You getting dough they wanna slide with you
If the shit hit the fan and all of the lies hit you
Just 'cause they all in the cut don't mean they ride with you
You ain't cooking know what I eat, it's my kitchen
And being frank was never there 'cause I'm with him
You see a nigga who probably hatin', smile at him
You see a nigga who getting paper, vibe with him

I remember saying I don't like playing less
Now the truth to tell me I got more whites and they hear less
Feeling like a pharaoh get white and it's no way left
One thing a nigga would die is my respect
Making quick decisions and living life with no regrets
It's a handful of niggas who probably know me best
I just want checks, if any about the money, leave it on my desk
You can keep on smoking to me, and I don't need no stress
Planning, waiting, I make the stretch, I don't need boflex
And I don't need no rest
You gotta grind if you want them dimes
Paper cover clips but there ain't no vimes
How the fuck you say you connected but you ain't online
I use the bitch as an alibi
I'm isolated, rolling up and getting high!

Now I lay me down to sleep
I just want a pound a week
And not to sell it off for cheap
I hope my circle never turning dish
If I should die before I wake just let me say
You don't do shit but motivate, I love to hate
I don't give a fuck anyway, I'm getting paid
Just hoping I make it through any day
Now LET US PRAY

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