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lirik lagu pray – twisted insane & t-rock

[intro: t*rock]
now i lay me down to sleep
i pray the lord my soul to keep
if i should die before i wake
i pray the lord my soul to take
or i take you b*tches to h*ll with me
y’all already know what it is
yeah, we gon’ get it how we live
and we gon’ speak it how we feel
twisted insane get into these b*tches

[verse 1: twisted insane]
people tell me i’m an animal (animal)
he tried to play me and so i beat ’em
told him i wasn’t playing and he don’t want no more bacon
i’m chopping up at your face and my n*gga i wasn’t kidding
deadly, we k!ll like freddy, be ready when i be coming
since you’re pushing the bullet i put one up in your stomach
semi*auto will follow whenever they get to running
i preach it, they wasn’t playing, them n*ggas really be dumping
and they don’t want to get the real life, i spend life in the dungeon
found myself with the blunt wrap, what’s that? nothing
he’s about to go tighter d*mn, man put it on, you wasn’t
pull up with the mask on then hit about two dozen
i told ’em i was different, they gon’ learn about me
he say you wanna hold up but we gon’ murder with me
put a body in the river then make him drown with the weed
cause they wanna come back and hit ’em and with the word on my street
i got little n*ggas that pull up and put one up in your face
walk up on ’em with the pistol then i pull from the waist
told ’em i was official, my missile will hit your base
screaming out “bl**dy murder’ i burn ’em up in a race
i pound ’em, they found ’em dead in the street
got to running ’em off and now we embedded with heat
when they talking to people that sound like telling to me
and now the pistol in his mouth got him feeling to speak
somebody pray for him
[bridge 1: t*rock]
know what i’m talking about? two ogs giving classes, whooping asses, you know what i’m talking ’bout? y’all motherf*ckers ain’t got no class, we’re the classiest, the baddest. lyrically when we get done it’s gon’ be murder in mass. look at him man. everybody got some sh*t to say about who don’t like who. who hanging with who for what reasons, switching sides and sh*t. i don’t give a f*ck about what none of you n*ggas doing. if it don’t make me no dollars it don’t make no sense. keep your two cents and murk these b*tches

[verse 2: t*rock]
i feel like it’s 1997 when twista was kicking that adrenaline rush
i was with the triple 6ix mafia learning about menacing methods
dropping a bomb every sinister clutch
lyrically i’m spitting lava degrees, the hottest emcee
you other n*ggas not in my league, a product of gs
of fellas who would shot us, indeed
some gotta get cheese
i graduated out of the streets with proper degrees
under a protocol, giving the order of gs
anything opposite never will be important to me
i used to keep a razor blade in my mouth as an adolescent
if a n*gga f*ck with me he immortally bleed
i’m worldwide, my vibrato is in while i tune with mob boss
he will meet you right at the border with keys
telling you that your life is dependent on how you play with my money
n*gga, you don’t wanna see slaughter reprieve
you want the rapid fire, its’ been a while
dropping this other mind of a criminal
mind of a general
never was the biggest when it came to the physical but h*ll with his hand on a fifty cal
wicked intentions when i get to busting that b*tch will be loud as a bass h*rn
n*ggas dropping like acorns right off the money tree, somebody better go pray for him
[outro: t*rock]
city of sin mixed with south side. california, college park, ntl baby. by way of memphis, brainstorming on you motherf*ckers. t*rock, mister 420 himself. twisted insane. two of the craziest motherf*ckers to ever hit the microphone…together. one project, one mission

- twisted insane t rock

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