Prayers Over Packages
DJ Muggs, Rome Streetz
Uh, check ayo, ayo
What get you killed faster, too much love
Trust or truth?
What's the difference between Malcolm
Martin and Huey Newt?
Sometimes a nigga downfall is who he knew
Do you view the world through wise eyes or
Is your mind in a hula hoop?
We woke but still sold rotten
Fruit in pursuit of loot
Tryna go from the stoop to the newest coupe
Smoothest criminal with elusive moves
In tune with street scholars and goons
Haile Selassie, art and crackpot fumes
Mathematics live from where it's all about
Who pull the faster ratchet
And cash too, but when your mask split
That's it cut from a different cloth
You niggas raggedy fabric
Lacking swag, just rappity rap shit
Ain't raising the bar high, fall guys
Be lying 'bout mob ties
These niggas really givin off broad vibes
It's the lord like Finesse and Sonny Carson
Mind on the money often
Rockin slick shit, the god of horsemen
I said prayers over packages
Hopin' to God that we could
Sell it fast as shit
Mommy told me "never slack off
Nigga there's plenty cash to get
Never get too caught up in the moment
Gotta capture it"
Ayo coming up, had mad friends
Close ones, homies, associates
Some died, went to jail
Some niggas overdosed on opiates
I been to hell and back but I'm Gucci now
Niggas know we lit
Bitch from Jamaica, weed from Amsterdam
The pistol Soviet you salty, so be it
You niggas won't be shit
You copying the style of a nigga who
Made a style off of stolen shit
I body you and send your hoe condolences
Black roses on ya gravesite and blunt
Ashes while I smoke a spliff
Wondering why niggas is fiend' the fuck out
I sold them this
So forever my shit'll always be on solar
Bitch supreme soloist in a Polo fit
All y'all already knowin' it
I call my esé up and ya soul'll lift
I been a hustler
That shit's embedded in my DNA
Could sell a roach Raid, a weed-head crack
And a vegan steak
Well aware when I'm out there in the field
Yeah I see the play
Like Curtis Riley, know the world is grimy
Still I keep a K (Brr)
I said prayers over packages
Hopin' to God that I could
Sell it fast as shit
Mommy told me "never slack off
Nigga there's plenty cash to get
Never get too caught up in the moment
Gotta capture it"
Fuck outta here you're dead
Written by: Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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