Lyrics:
And look straight to the heavens so I know that He hear me
My shit fluxuate from the drop seven, to the wide bodied eight
Up on in corner, with
October 7th
1997
Daphne and Chad birthed a legend and that's all facts
I gotta thank the family first cause they built the kid up
To keep going
7th street yeah right on olive
In a super sports car engine by the backseat
They ain't one of ours so its fuck em' if you ask me
Really 4PF blue strips
knife
Weathered by
The pain of life
Overthink
And doubt it all
I've lost my wings
Afraid to fall
And every day
I'm growing numb
I can't
I'm
You who live in heaven
Hear the prayers of those of us who live on earth
Who are afraid of being left by those we love
And who get hardened by
still feelin' the pain
Turnin' circles in my 9th grade
Dealin' Cocaine
To many hassels in my local lights
Survivin' the strain
And a man without
is gonna be alright
Heaven’s gonna take us somewhere
Oh ya gonna be just fine
The pain we feel can’t compare
Of is gonna be alright
Heaven’s
yeah
I tell them you should do the same, hey yeah
Look, to all my relations
I put two feathers up now
It's a glorious occasion
Welcome to the 7th
Dear friend
If you want to feel better
Don't let the devil make you toss this letter
If you've been crossed up by hoodoo voodoo
The wizard
The access to each Heaven
May be blocked by a very specific kind of emotional shit
Seeking the Seven Heavens at the eleventh hour
The power to acquire
immense
Food for thought real dense
Just using my 7th sense
Too cold how a nigga vent Ah
feel no pain
Until we make it to the end of the day
I pray that love will shelter us from our fears
Oh, I pray you trust to let me wipe off your
Post-traumatic stress from the pain, I need some morphine
Cash rules everything around me, need some more cream
If I die tonight, wonder if heaven got a ghetto
gone take them pills
They aint never get me for that nigga I done killed
Up in the 7th grade
Nigga pressing pills Gettin ill that's the game we played
Oh, farewell you streets of sorrow
And farewell you streets of pain
I'll not return to feel more sorrow
Nor to see more young men slain
Through
Heaven's rule will cease,
Just as the prophets saw.
Prophesies and blasphemies,
Are ruled by Satan's law.
Seven years, grim and dark,
Man will wear
To a world turning cold as stone
To a world spinning out of control
See the signs of the times
Feel the emptiness inside
To try to hide the pain
and dehydration
His tongue began to swell
And weakened by His loss of blood
This Prophet, Teacher fell
When He did some blood splattered
On a man named
the elevators, put on my shoes and I walked
7th grade did the spelling bee
Working on a better me
Charged up like a battery
Crazy lil kids in my face tryna
against the wall
[Master P]
I shed tears for pain 40, some for anger
Seen bloodshed by crooked cops, and gang bangers
Feel my pain only time'll change
Words and music by Roddy Frame
I recall the biggest beach,
Throwing stones, almost alone except for,
Something just outside of reach,
And I'd
looking for my maker
And I hear that that's where she's been? Oh!
Out of nine lives, I spent seven
Now, how in the world do you get to Heaven
Oh, you
pop now they asking exposure
I gotta get this money give no excuses screw the Rona
Back to Make e and Bernie freestyling in 7th grade
Energade, these
in the second hand you don't really know how this is
But when it hits that close to home you feel the pain at the crib
So I called mine, and saddened
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