777

A-Reece

Yeah! Let it go and let God handle the rest
The deeper it gets, I'm finding it harder to hold my breath
Stumbling in quick sand, running out of escape plans
Wish I could just see God in the flesh,
Reach for his hand to lift me out of this mess
I'm uninspired and my family adding up to the stress
I'm exhausted from unravelling the secrets they kept
Feel like I'm forcing myself to endure the feelings they felt
Feel like I'm going through hell,
From the firmament I feel like I fell
Would you still believe in me if I fail?
Would you still remain yourself if I end up doing well?
Would you depend on my wealth?
Would you still be confident enough to ask for some help?
Casual trips in and out of the West, my Momma's address
Me and that place got a special connection
Even though it ain't the same for my parents
That place is where my rap dreams manifested nevertheless
I'ts been difficult keeping up since I left
Another day, another story to tell
Another death, another nigga in Jail
(Yeah! Another Death, Another Nigga in jail)
(Krish: One two, One two)

(Another death, Another Nigga in jail, yeah!)

(PAY HOMAGE EVERYTHING IS FOR SALE!)
Krish

Yeah, since a kid I always knew music was paramount
Never minding school told my dad: "After this I'm heading out."
Our neighborhood always been blessed, they in the golden era
Bout' to build a bridge between West Side and International
Most of my first ever recorded songs were with the same
Niggas That I'm with at the back of my crib, doing shit
Word is bond it cut deep, I use it as my weapon
Yeah, thanking the Lord my vocal my major blessing
I.M.P THA DON

(Yo' hold on man lemme go in...)
Yeah, and the Grammy award goes to
The young and hopeful Nigga from the west
Who made sure his words are soulful
Speak from the heart and speak true
Emerge from the dark and just light up every room
That you walk in, always leave em' talking
It don't matter what they say cause
They can love you now and then hate you the next day
Figure that shit out and then come back the best way
More tunes for the haters cause music is the persuasion
(Yeah, we got weed for the elevation,
Call my Momma tell her I made it)