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[Spoken:] |
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I do dirt, in search of a clear mind |
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Money talk, somebodies gonna hear mine |
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Grind early before 9: 30 |
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Got the nine and the thirty |
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Kiss of death, you heard me? |
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My world ain't worldly, any time could be my time |
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I get high, but still ain't seen Chicago skyline |
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In my prime, stakes is high cause it's beef |
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Out here in these streets |
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Everybody tryna eat off the same plate |
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Dead presidents, we want the same face |
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And to think, me and the president, we from the same place |
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Four-hundred and twenty-one murders, ain't tryna be of the same fate |
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If I die and go to heaven, will I make it through the main gate? |
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[Intro:] |
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Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom |
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Ooh |
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Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom |
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Ooh |
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Ah yes, my Lord, Ah, Oh |
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Ah yes, my Lord, Ah, Oh |
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[Verse 1 - Common:] |
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Second row of the church with my hood on |
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My homie used to rap, he was about to get put on |
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At his funeral, listening to this church song |
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His family yelling and screaming, I hurt for 'em |
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A cold world that's why we pack heaters |
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Listening to this preacher as he tryna reach us |
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I'm a need to go back, I gots to get 'em |
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Back and forth in these streets, that's the rhythm |
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Revenge is supposed to be the Lord's but I use my own accord |
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When I seen him on the porch, cost my man his life, I can't afford not to hit him |
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Shots ripping through his True Religion denim |
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These streets was my religion |
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I stood over him, his life is over then |
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Now these keys got me locked up with older men |
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Thought these was the keys for me to roll a Benz |
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They ended up being the keys for my life to end |
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[Hook:] |
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Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom (yeah) |
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Ooh (sing) |
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Help me get, get the keys to the kingdom (yeah) |
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Ooh |
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Ah yes, my Lord, Ah, Oh |
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(And the streets say) |
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(And the people say) |
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(And we all say) |
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Ah yes, my Lord, Ah, Oh |
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(And the streets say) |
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(And the people say) |
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(And we all say) |
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[Verse 2 - Common:] |
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My money ain't straight, my fam ain't straight |
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Ain't wanna push kis, heaven couldn't wait |
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I was hurtin', couldn't get no work |
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You created me from dust, that's why I did dirt |
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You said that the last shall be first |
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Now I'm in a hearse, what's this cash really worth? |
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My whole life I had to worry about eatin' |
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I ain't have time to think about what I believe in |
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When the days of the kingdom for Chicago gon' come? |
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I'm coming back like the Prodigal Son, and I got a son |
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And I don't want my waves following him, the streets swallowing him |
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And I don't want no hollows in him, his momma said she see his father in him |
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Hope it's the good things, 'til life was over is when I understood things |
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Standing at the gates 'cause I know you've forgiven what I've done |
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I'm your son, do I have the keys to get in? |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 3 - Vince Staples:] |
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Sweet Lord Jesus, tell the polices to let a ****** breathe |
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My sinning father see, got a ************pment by the seas |
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See my ******s tryna eat, eat whatever's on your plate |
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Save some for me, the worst things in life come sitting six feet |
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Tryna hop the gate to heaven 'cause I couldn't get a key |
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But these ******s play for keeps and I gotta hold my own |
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Tryna watch my back 'cause these stripes ain't free |
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We still wading in the water, ************, blunts, marinating in the water |
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Lean and took a puff and then she gave it to my father |
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Used to take the bullets out so I could play with the revolver |
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Satan serenading ever since I was a toddler |
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Tell 'em talk is cheap, ******s living for the dollar |
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So in God we trust, leave the praying to my momma though |
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Another mother****** out of control, just walking my soles low |
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Lit up with the abuse, they wasn't for show, I promise every pistol was used |
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See I was waking up afraid to see my name on the news |
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Broad day, bare faced, giving ******s the blues |
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****** who you? They know me on the streets where I grew |
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If you ain't from around here you get gunned down here |
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Make the best from the least on the quest for them keys |
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To the kingdom |
