Pray 4 Me Lyrics

Black is what?

Beautiful

Brown is what?

Merciful

White is what?

Delusional

Be careful with the ones you know

When times are ruff they blow yo phone

Won't let you borrow I give loans

Fuck that up I'll track yo phone

Then throw fades pinche mamón

I feel alone right now

Not by myself somehow

I don't do good in crowds

I'm what the devil found

From the brown side of town

The type to think out loud

I don't feel good right now

Look at my bank account

I don't got a weapon

Are you gonna step in

Step out

You a fucken let down

I can beat cho ass with my hands down

Put yo fucken hand down

Asking for a hand out

I'm the fucken man now

Wachu mean you can't tell

You gone be that man down

Gotta lotta muthufuckas wanna see me dead

But I'm dead now

All I gotta say is for the day is you better pray

nothing was the same now

Fuck around in my 22's when I look at you

Cruising down the avenue like if it was new

I'm the type to make it through, I got no excuse

I got classics fuck the new, Putos this my neighborhood

You know I can handle anything that you throw at me

If you the type to go to church and pray then pray for me

I don't need no body

I feel like I'm rocky

Don't you try to jock me

Throw fades like it's hockey

Momma doesn't want me

Smoke is getting foggy

Don't fuck with my hobby

Yo bitch looking sloppy

Yo songs always floppin

They asking when I'm droppin

They can't wait to cop it

Promise, promise you won't top it

Song writer

Imma freedom fighter

Mothers that can't see the light I'm dying right beside her

Ghost writer

Pray I never find ya

I'm that jardinero up the Palm trees with a sniper

I like her

I really wanna pipe her

I like it when she moans my name everytime I'm inside her

The divider

Call the homie spyder

I just took this putos bitch, she knows I'm the provider

You can call me a wet back

But you better get back

Don't you even get mad

You the one that said that

Fuck you and you left tat

Fuck you and yo trump hat

Where the fuck you get that

You not even half black

You don't get to say that

Imma go and get my bat

Cut Cho balls and make you fetch

Cuz I'm freaky freaky freaky fresh

Fuck around in my 22's when I look at you

Cruising down the avenue like if it was new

I'm the type to make it through, I got no excuse

I got classics fuck the new, Putos this my neighborhood

Ustedes tienen ojos y todavía no pueden ver

También tienen oídos y no pueden entender

Yo solamente quiero

Mi alma y dinero

Rastreando billetes porque yo soy jardinero

Yo soy prisionero

Me llaman el grosero

Yo no soy el maestro

Yo soy el mensajero

En este mundo bien profundo ay dos tipos pa los chicos tienes huevos o tienes miedo

Fuck it Asta luego