T.I.
Pray for Me
[Chorus: YFN Lucci]
Yeah, from the cracks and the holes in the pavement
Ain't no hope for the youth, Lord, save me
Gotta smile through it even though you hate it
All I ask is that you pray for me

[Verse 1: YFN Lucci]
You know we always payin' attention
Always out handlin' business
N***as in they feelings
Certain shit can't be given
I'ma go and get it, yeah
N***as got they hand out, shit, that ain't the way we livin', yeah
That ain't the way that I pictured thirty hoes and ten of us n***as
See, that's the way we kick it
Twenty of us, and ten of us probably got an extension
Everybody playin' broke 'cause they think I can fix it
Everything that you got, that shit probably rented
I know my partners wit' me
Ain't no stoppin' this shit, the sky is the limit, yeah

[Break: YFN Lucci]
Who gon' ride wit' me?
Ayy, who gon' ride wit' me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you lied to me, dang
[Verse 2: T.I.]
Made it to the top from the gutter
Promisin' the hood I came from it'll never be another, yeah
Remember trappin' in the hood, duckin' under cover
Buyin' hard ounces for my msms brother
Tryna block mine, boy, you get knocked out, hah
I'm wit' the shit you know that you are not 'bout
Old n***a with some long money
N***a try me, I'ma get it all from ya
Listen, I ain't worried 'bout the small, run it
Got my chrome on his dome then it dawned on him, dead 'em
Plans too large, huh, n***a get on your ass, you put laws on 'em
Fuck that shit, I'ma still sic my dogs on 'em
Don't care how many police you call on 'em
Ridin' wit' my n***as 'til the wheel fall, if you got the dice, put it all on
Live by the sword or die by it but sometimes you gotta fall on it
Hey, ain't it funny how the dumbest n***as know it all, don't it?
N***a, keep it silent, you ain't lived through it, don't talk 'bout it, yeah
Sixteen totin' A-K, havin' turf war
I got a record deal, started sellin' dope for my first born, I swear
Look at God, won't He do it?
Gotta run a bag up to somewhere good 'til the bullshit I did null and void
Skully pulled up, forty in my hoodie, hah, and you better not make me pull it
One thing about a sucka n***a, he gon' talk cash shit 'til he run into me
Drop a bankroll on his main bitch, make her go and do it for me
No Hollywood, couldn't fake my life
Quarter million cash on a brand new jet
Crowd me, nah, nobody can do that
Slide a bag, sip on yac, and let 'em handle that
Trap n***a whippin' work in the bando
You violate, retaliation got me mando
I keep a pistol on me 'cause the bands I done ran up
Numbers scratched out, paper runner
Strategy used to be take Atlanta
Spread it then makin' it in Savannah
Runnin' my play up the East Coast
I done tested the caliber, YFN Lucci
Kickin' shit in the Caribbean
Know you pussy, can't even open eye when you shoot
When you live wit' that bullshit, you die wit' it too
I would talk but could not be alive wit' the truth
When you owe me and then gettin' fly wit' it too
Bringin' some action, survive wit' it too
Swear, I'm smokin' on nothin' but power
I get money and dodgin' them cowards
[Chorus: YFN Lucci]
Yeah, from the cracks and the holes in the pavement
Ain't no hope for the youth, Lord, save me
Gotta smile through it even though you hate it
All I ask is that you pray for me

[Break: YFN Lucci]
Who gon' ride wit' me?
Aye, who gon' ride wit' me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you lied to me, dang
Who gon' ride wit' me?
Aye, who gon' ride wit' me?
Yeah, death before dishonor but you lied to me, dang

[Outro: Dave Chappelle]
This next beat is so god damn sinister that I don't even, ahhm
It makes me feel like everything
It's just that nitty, gritty, fuckin' dirty South shit
It makes me feel good
This right here, this one's for the pull-up