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lirik lagu pray 4 me – doomsday productions

[verse 1: eklypss]
40 ounces in my system
liquor twisted braincells [?] from intense execution k!llings
i done been on my knees for two weeks repenting
i’m praying to the lord but it seem like lucifer be listening
ain’t no scientific reason for my loccness
just dopeness
flowing through my veins got me potent
i’m focused
hopeless
just feel me i ain’t joking
i’m that inner city nightmare that’ll f*ck you up and you can quote it
mentality is evil causing fatalities
feeble minded n*ggas f*ckin up they faculties
death sentences rеlentlessness
in thеm trenches
it ain’t no way you finna find some mercy in them clenches
that’s why i’m in a stony position every night
to get them demons off my back and finally see the light
but that pressures building up, up in my gut
i’m doomed, it’s chaos, my conscious is corrupt
i think i might get struck down by lightning and chucked down in h*ll
and dwell where it’s frightening
d*mn
but it’s trials and tribulation every day for me
lord forgive me for my sins and all y’all pray for me
[verse 2: playboy 7]
2 am, i’m drunk driving a minivan
the stick up on my d*ck just got served by the president of my fan club
christian brothers frosted white brandy got me sick
hickies on my neck, p*ssy juice up on my d*ck
i’m just driving, don’t know where the f*ck i’m going
brain stuck on copping blow and dem b*tches ho’ing
700 hunnid in my pocket, n*gga i puts dat on god
but i still go in da store and steal a ho [?] and slam a pop
smoking ports like a sport, i resort to criminal entrepreneurship
for that long shoe sort
40 caliber in my grip, dats da strap i need
cause i’m bailing selling cocaine, p*ssy, and weed
maybe tomorrow i’ll rise
be a better human being
keep them tears outta jesus’ eyes
for now i gotta rest
but before i go to sleep i got some sh*t to get up off my chest
(chest, chest, chest)
10 am
i just can’t understand it
been awake ’bout 30 minutes, done already broke all ten commandments
i pray to god to save my soul
but being an unproductive menace to society done took it’s toll
i roll with the punches, follow my hunches, stack cash in bunches, smoke menthols for lunches
keep my eyes open and my mouth shut
been known to break a b*tch off a piece of d*ck up in her b*tt
fornication and sodomy, it’s become a part of me
blasphemous evil angel is what they calling me
and every day i’m getting worse
but can’t find the strength i need, to take my sinning ass to church
so see the lord’s tucker and al
won’t you close your f*ckin mouth and put your knees on the ground
bow down
tired of hearing ’bout all these b*tches and triggas
stay off the tv and pray for us n*ggas
[verse 3: wall]
livin my life as a doomsta
i must’ve
got caught in a game with a b*tch and a busta
i’m stuck in the game and see my vision is insane
incredbile death but see the wall is alright
stuck in a jail cell, my visions are vain
my only way out, is just a [?] gain
and day after day
i’m seeing n*ggas and convicts
polluting the jail house with weed and sherm sticks
now what should i do?
should i be the n*gga that trip?
i’m not a gangsta, better yet a doomsta, come again
look what they got and what they gave
n*gga, wall ain’t snitching to them p*ck*rwoods anyway
trust no ho, try trusting no homie though
i bet you come back
looking like a psycho
cause they had bought [?] a wall from the clique
cause he been stressin ’bout a m*th*f*ckin grip
everyday hobby, strong armed robberies
a n*gga plead innocent, until i’m found guilty
banning m*th*f*ckas i’m a backstabber
and a d
so n*gga just pray for me
[verse 4: pit]
lord
tell me what’s wrong with me?
i’m full a anger, pain, and i’m kamikaze on a mission
a lotta n*ggas don’t understand my comprehension
i don’t consider ’em competition, but i keep listening
and like a baby they crying, give ’em a pacifier
and if that sh*t don’t work, then n*gga change his diaper
it’s raining slugs in my city, is my slogan
dumpin on ya
pray for a organ donor
how many lessons must be taught for you to use yo head
this sin city
n*gga, you can lose yo head
if n*ggas is locced together they’ll be bossin and flossin
instead we maddog each other
we cease to fightin’ an shootin’
and the m*th*f*ckin po*lice are still recruitin’
so i gotta get closer to my christians and movas
reincarnated huey newton
chewing soft m*th*f*ckas like a fig newton
now he’s digested by stomach acid
he’s in some sh*t
and a t*rd is his casket
bet you a b*tch, dat i won’t stop blasting
it’s the doom in me
pray for a n*ggas what i’m asking
(please)

- doomsday productions

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