Praying For My Opps

I'm fresh up out the trap, I'm feeling like a lick
It's too much dope up in the air, I'm smelling like a brick
Got residue all in my nails from that exotic shit
Just from the smell, bitch, you can tell that you ain't buying this

I'm paranoid as fuck, I feel like everybody watching me
Ain't never by myself, you know I always keep that Glock with me
Got faith in all my killers but I don't need no nigga to pop for me
You faking like you with it, when shit get sticky, that's when we gon' see
I'm praying for all my opps, I heard another one got shot this week
Ain't posted on that block 'cause that ain't somewhere that I gotta be
I pull them racks out, I'm tryna make my whole hood proud of me
You beat that pack out thеn you gon' think you hit the lottery

One way or anothеr, I gotta eat, and I got kids to feed
My daughters ain't missing no meal long as I'm here and that's by any means
They need to keep the rats and free the real, even all my enemies
You either bop with us or you with them, it ain't no in between

You gotta choose your side, when shit get real, is you gon' ride?
Streets gon' test your pride and make the toughest niggas testify
Sit down and check it out, I ain't out here tryna get no lectures out
You watch who wrecking out, you might as well try to learn a lesson now

Before it get too late and they got you locked up in that cage
Look at your mama face and none of them tears won't go away
I know it's hard to play 'cause it's so fucked up in this game
I learned the harder way, and don't be too dumb to think you can't

This shit get real in the field
You better keep your steel in the field
Where I'm from, it's either kill or be killed
Live by your gun, if not, you living in fear
Empty the clip and let it rip

I'm paranoid as fuck, I feel like everybody watching me
Ain't never by myself, you know I always keep that Glock with me
Got faith in all my killers but I don't need no nigga to pop for me
You faking like you with it, when shit get sticky, that's when we gon' see
I'm praying for all my opps, I heard another one got shot this week
Ain't posted on that block 'cause that ain't somewhere that I gotta be
I pull them racks out, I'm tryna make my whole hood proud of me
You beat that pack out then you gon' think you hit the lottery



Credits
Writer(s): Tahj Morgan, Rendull Middleton, Khaleel Kenyatta Griffin, Steven Anthony Flores Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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