Luyện nghe bài hát Pray for Me

Yeah, the cracks and the holes in the pavement
Ain't no for the youth, Lord, save me
Gotta smile through it even though you it
All I ask is you pray for me

You know we always attention
Always out handlin'
Niggas in they
Certain shit can't be
I'ma go and get it,
Niggas got they hand out, shit, ain't the way we livin', yeah
That ain't the way that I thirty hoes and ten of us niggas
See, that's the way we it
Twetny of us, and ten of us got an extension
Everybody playin' broke 'cause think I can fix it
Everything that you got, that shit probably
I know my wit' me
Ain't no this shit, the sky is the limit, yeahh

Who gon' ride me?
Aye, who ride wit' me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you lied to me,

Made it to the top from the
Promisin' the hood I from it'll never be another, yeah
trappin' in the hood, duckin' under cover
Buyin' hard for my momma brother
Tryna block mine, boy, you get out, hah
I'm the shit you know that you are not 'bout
Old wit' some long money
Nigga try me, I'ma get it all ya
Listen, I ain't 'bout the small run it
Got my chrome on his dome it dawned on him, dead 'em
Plans too large, huh, nigga get on your ass, you put on 'em
Fuck that shit, I'ma sic my dogs on 'em
Don't how many police you call on 'em
Ridin' wit' my niggas 'til the wheel
If you got the dice, put it all on
Live by the sword or die by it but sometimes you gotta on it
Hey, ain't it funny how the niggas know it all, don't it?
Nigga, keep it silent, you ain't lived through it, don't talk 'bout it,
Sixteen totin' A-K, turf war
I got a record deal, started sellin' dope for my first born, I
at God, won't he do it
Gotta run a bag up to Summer good the bullshit I did null and void
pulled up, forty in my hoodie, hah, and you better not make me pull it
One thing about a sucka nigga, he gon' talk cash shit he run into me
Drop a bankroll on his main bitch, her go and do it for me
No Hollywood, couldn't fake my
Quarter million cash on a new jet
me, nah, nobody can do that
Slide a bag, sip on yac, and let 'em that
Trap nigga whippin' in a Bando
You violate, retaliation got me
I keep a pistol on me the bands I don't ran 'em
Numbers out, paper runner
Strategy used to be Atlanta
Spread it then makin' it in
my play up the East Coast
I done tested the caliber, YFN
shit in the Caribbean
Know you pussy, even open eye when you shoot
When you live that bullshit, you die wit' it too
I would talk but not be alive wit' the truth
When you owe me and then fly wit' it too
Bringin' action, survive wit' it too
Swear, I'm on nothin' but power
I get money and them cowards

Yeah, the cracks and the holes in the pavement
no hope for the youth, Lord, save me
Gotta smile through it even you hate it
All I ask is that you for me

Who gon' wit' me?
Aye, who gon' ride me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you to me, dang
Who ride wit' me?
Aye, who ride wit' me?
Yeah, death before but you lied to me, dang

next beat is so god damn sinister that I don't even, ahhm
It makes me feel everything
just that nitty, gritty, fuckin' dirty South shit
It makes me feel
This right here, this for the pull-up