Roll Call

Just got off the phone with my nigga, Smitty
Shit too real back home, bro, for real

This for my nigga, Ced, hold yo' head
I know shit rough, but, nigga, we don't give up
We don't get mad, nigga, we just get tough
We just get right, nigga, we don't get left, hm
Fuck what they said
'Cause what we learned comin' up, you can't teach that shit
Life deal a nigga blows, but we eat that shit
This one here's for my brother, we gon' beat that shit, now

I say my prayers
I got too many people in my head right now
So many that's in jail, or they dead right now
One time for my nigga, Craig, right now
He in the feds, damn the times change
And these stupid niggas talkin' 'bout crime pay
You can keep that shit
I just made a million, call me when you reach that shit

Ain't braggin', I'm just sheddin' some light
One time for my granny up in Heaven tonight
And the young boy from the show, down in Hampton
Told me that my song was the reason he beat cancer
Ain't know what to say, I just froze
A lil' too deep, I suppose
But after a year of review
I figured it out, it wasn't me, it was you, nigga
Congratulations!

I just got a bunch of bad news
It ain't easy, but I accept it
Trained to be a soldier, a belt I never protected
I hope I ace this class, faiths, they gettin' tested
Pain, something like cancer, I feel like I been infected
They say it's only time, witnessed the worst shit
Brother got triple life, he ain't fit as the first year
He ain't even get to see my kids while they growin' up
Visitation ain't the same, but every tears, I'm showing up

See, all I knew was him, and all he knew was me
I overlooked beyond joy, and chose to keep it gee
While them other niggas be bowlin' like they got a deal
I'm thinkin' 'bout my nigga, Jov, tryna get a meal
And I ain't talkin' 'bout dollar signs
The police came and gathered, can't imagine what song was mine
They say shit ain't that bad, and I see it ain't that great either
Barely missin' my tears, and I swear I ain't lame either

Still, I pray to God that I'm hope to those who'd learn to live
Like the lil' homie, Gates, somebody beat this child to death
What's crazy? I don't know when they will
But I feel that's fucked up, I'll ride even if it's Hell
I feel tired livin' out of breath
I gotta fight, twirl it 'til no muscle left
Dedicate this here to all grinds
My lil' homie, Depp, that got paralyzed
Hold your head up, nigga



Credits
Writer(s): Frazier Othel Thompson, Clifford Harris, Tivon Key, Jonathan F. Carle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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