Pray For Your Baby 歌词
| 歌曲 | Pray For Your Baby |
| 歌手 | Soulja Slim |
| 专辑 | Give It 2 'Em Raw |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Master P, Soulja Slim ... | |
| Check this out | |
| When ain't nothin' else happenin' | |
| And ain't no more money | |
| The only nigga gon' be here for me, huh | |
| Is the nigga that made me, my mama | |
| Ya heard me? [Soulja Slim] | |
| I thank the | |
| Lord I got my mind right | |
| My lifestyle was drastic | |
| Tryin' to avoid the casket | |
| Don't want my son to be a bastard | |
| But y'all wouldn't know | |
| But I seen that a couple of times | |
| The Lord talked to me | |
| Told me put the foolishness behind | |
| It's not worth dying | |
| Tryin' to represent where ya come from | |
| Or makin' beef, because you feel like your that big | |
| G I went the same way, but today, | |
| I'm on a higher level | |
| I'm on a paper chase and runnin' behind it like a rebel | |
| I want it all | |
| So me and my mama can ball | |
| The only one that pushed me up, in my downfall | |
| And my pop, been in pennitentaries 10 wasted years | |
| My mama wasted tears | |
| But she brought me up, by herself, without no help | |
| Used to catch whippings with a leather belt | |
| But that ain't stop nothin' | |
| I was a Soulja always into stuff | |
| Elementary school | |
| I'm cuttin' | |
| Gettin' caught wrote on the | |
| B roll Mama, come sign me out | |
| I don't like these phony people | |
| Down here to come sign me out | |
| Come bomb me out central lockup | |
| I shoulda put the glock up | |
| And the two quarters | |
| I rocked up [Chorus: Master P] | |
| Mom, I love you cause you made me | |
| But pray for your baby cause this ghetto got me crazy [Trenitty] | |
| I remember | |
| Indo sticks and concrete bricks | |
| Dope fiends fix, | |
| Deathrow cliques | |
| That pops them shits | |
| Takin' hits | |
| Had to make more grits | |
| Than a homeless man, hungry man | |
| Had to watch my mom twerk here body, for a ceilin' fan | |
| Pops incarcerated so | |
| I hated as a child | |
| But as I grew, | |
| I got to knew him so | |
| I dug his style | |
| Livin' foul, the law was: get it how you live | |
| Friend or foe, never forgive, crack that niggaz rib | |
| By any means ness, get your cake support your fam | |
| Don't give a damn, robbin' neighbors for some ham | |
| Even spam was a good dish | |
| See we was poor, when we were sick, moms made us well with a kiss | |
| I'm through, my most respect is due, so | |
| I spits my gat | |
| Cracks my back | |
| Makin' sure she gets the lack | |
| So well deservin' | |
| Pervin' in some shit | |
| I bought her | |
| That's what she told us: remeber that blood is thicker than water [Chorus] |
| zuo ci : Master P, Soulja Slim ... | |
| Check this out | |
| When ain' t nothin' else happenin' | |
| And ain' t no more money | |
| The only nigga gon' be here for me, huh | |
| Is the nigga that made me, my mama | |
| Ya heard me? Soulja Slim | |
| I thank the | |
| Lord I got my mind right | |
| My lifestyle was drastic | |
| Tryin' to avoid the casket | |
| Don' t want my son to be a bastard | |
| But y' all wouldn' t know | |
| But I seen that a couple of times | |
| The Lord talked to me | |
| Told me put the foolishness behind | |
| It' s not worth dying | |
| Tryin' to represent where ya come from | |
| Or makin' beef, because you feel like your that big | |
| G I went the same way, but today, | |
| I' m on a higher level | |
| I' m on a paper chase and runnin' behind it like a rebel | |
| I want it all | |
| So me and my mama can ball | |
| The only one that pushed me up, in my downfall | |
| And my pop, been in pennitentaries 10 wasted years | |
| My mama wasted tears | |
| But she brought me up, by herself, without no help | |
| Used to catch whippings with a leather belt | |
| But that ain' t stop nothin' | |
| I was a Soulja always into stuff | |
| Elementary school | |
| I' m cuttin' | |
| Gettin' caught wrote on the | |
| B roll Mama, come sign me out | |
| I don' t like these phony people | |
| Down here to come sign me out | |
| Come bomb me out central lockup | |
| I shoulda put the glock up | |
| And the two quarters | |
| I rocked up Chorus: Master P | |
| Mom, I love you cause you made me | |
| But pray for your baby cause this ghetto got me crazy Trenitty | |
| I remember | |
| Indo sticks and concrete bricks | |
| Dope fiends fix, | |
| Deathrow cliques | |
| That pops them shits | |
| Takin' hits | |
| Had to make more grits | |
| Than a homeless man, hungry man | |
| Had to watch my mom twerk here body, for a ceilin' fan | |
| Pops incarcerated so | |
| I hated as a child | |
| But as I grew, | |
| I got to knew him so | |
| I dug his style | |
| Livin' foul, the law was: get it how you live | |
| Friend or foe, never forgive, crack that niggaz rib | |
| By any means ness, get your cake support your fam | |
| Don' t give a damn, robbin' neighbors for some ham | |
| Even spam was a good dish | |
| See we was poor, when we were sick, moms made us well with a kiss | |
| I' m through, my most respect is due, so | |
| I spits my gat | |
| Cracks my back | |
| Makin' sure she gets the lack | |
| So well deservin' | |
| Pervin' in some shit | |
| I bought her | |
| That' s what she told us: remeber that blood is thicker than water Chorus |
| zuò cí : Master P, Soulja Slim ... | |
| Check this out | |
| When ain' t nothin' else happenin' | |
| And ain' t no more money | |
| The only nigga gon' be here for me, huh | |
| Is the nigga that made me, my mama | |
| Ya heard me? Soulja Slim | |
| I thank the | |
| Lord I got my mind right | |
| My lifestyle was drastic | |
| Tryin' to avoid the casket | |
| Don' t want my son to be a bastard | |
| But y' all wouldn' t know | |
| But I seen that a couple of times | |
| The Lord talked to me | |
| Told me put the foolishness behind | |
| It' s not worth dying | |
| Tryin' to represent where ya come from | |
| Or makin' beef, because you feel like your that big | |
| G I went the same way, but today, | |
| I' m on a higher level | |
| I' m on a paper chase and runnin' behind it like a rebel | |
| I want it all | |
| So me and my mama can ball | |
| The only one that pushed me up, in my downfall | |
| And my pop, been in pennitentaries 10 wasted years | |
| My mama wasted tears | |
| But she brought me up, by herself, without no help | |
| Used to catch whippings with a leather belt | |
| But that ain' t stop nothin' | |
| I was a Soulja always into stuff | |
| Elementary school | |
| I' m cuttin' | |
| Gettin' caught wrote on the | |
| B roll Mama, come sign me out | |
| I don' t like these phony people | |
| Down here to come sign me out | |
| Come bomb me out central lockup | |
| I shoulda put the glock up | |
| And the two quarters | |
| I rocked up Chorus: Master P | |
| Mom, I love you cause you made me | |
| But pray for your baby cause this ghetto got me crazy Trenitty | |
| I remember | |
| Indo sticks and concrete bricks | |
| Dope fiends fix, | |
| Deathrow cliques | |
| That pops them shits | |
| Takin' hits | |
| Had to make more grits | |
| Than a homeless man, hungry man | |
| Had to watch my mom twerk here body, for a ceilin' fan | |
| Pops incarcerated so | |
| I hated as a child | |
| But as I grew, | |
| I got to knew him so | |
| I dug his style | |
| Livin' foul, the law was: get it how you live | |
| Friend or foe, never forgive, crack that niggaz rib | |
| By any means ness, get your cake support your fam | |
| Don' t give a damn, robbin' neighbors for some ham | |
| Even spam was a good dish | |
| See we was poor, when we were sick, moms made us well with a kiss | |
| I' m through, my most respect is due, so | |
| I spits my gat | |
| Cracks my back | |
| Makin' sure she gets the lack | |
| So well deservin' | |
| Pervin' in some shit | |
| I bought her | |
| That' s what she told us: remeber that blood is thicker than water Chorus |
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