Prayer lyrics
by Baby Kia
[Intro]
(Ki, you cooked this?)
(Ayo, run it up, Rami)
(That n*gga Nate crazy, okay, bet)
[Chorus: MAF Teeski]
Uh, swing my door and open up fire
I been gettin' in trouble and postin' bonds since I was a lil' minor
His dumb ass got hit with a four-nick', now he need a diaper
Free my brother, he 'bout to go to trial, you know that boy a fighter
You could catch us slidin' 300S, we'll come kit up your Chrysler
Say the wrong thing, we come through sparkin' like a broke-ass lighter
I got a thing for all this lean and all these Percs and Roxys
Like BK, I pray you die, I'm tryna catch a body
[Verse 1: Baby Kia]
Alright, okay, he say he tryna catch a hat
That's cool, just let me know how you wan' slide, 39-deuce or the Track'
n*gga bunky, burnin', come through, hit his micro, send him back
Let 30 get on feet, pull out his eyeballs like the Men in Black
He think that we playin', I send that blitz, they pull up stolen straight
Bro know he not gettin' paid for no legs, he shootin' above the waist
Run inside his spot and put the Kel-Tec to his snout
My young n*gga tryna drop somethin', he not shootin' up no house
Okay, let him get caught out of bounds, just know that n*gga f*cked, uh
It look like a holocaust, pull up big dually truck
n*gga think I'm sellin' bricks, I'm droppin' verses for these bucks
Get out of line, I'll drop a dime, I'll get you hurt for these lil' bucks
[Verse 2: MAF Teeski]
Mixin' Wock' with a lil' Tuss'
It's a ticket on his head, get out of line, we f*ck you up
Remember I ain't had no money and now my front two pockets stuffed
And we ain't sharin' clothes or rolls, but we don't no f*ck 'bout sl*ts
Uh, they ain't on nothin', all my opps, they ain't on nothin'
When shots get let off, your ass be the first one runnin'
7.62s or he probably got hit with a button
b*tch, I don't follow rules
[Chorus: MAF Teeski]
Uh, swing my door and open up fire
I been gettin' in trouble and postin' bonds since I was a lil' minor
His dumb ass got hit with a four-nick', now he need a diaper
Free my brother, he 'bout to go to trial, you know that boy a fighter
You could catch us slidin' 300S, we'll come kit up your Chrysler
Say the wrong thing, we come through sparkin' like a broke-ass lighter
I got a thing for all this lean and all these Percs and Roxys
Like BK, I pray you die, I'm tryna catch a body