God bless the soldiers,
|
We lost out in the field
|
When you was killed
|
It was Allah¡¯s will
|
We part your pill with large steel
|
You left a big pair of Clarks to fill
|
We flipped the hard still
|
And watched you cartwheel
|
Parked the Civil on the dark hill
|
Feel the wind chill
|
The pill of imbecile like Seal
|
Blood out the pen spill
|
I chill by the window sill
|
Think about mils
|
I¡¯m on a no frills, niggas heels
|
The dillingers reveal but not on film
|
I print the literature with zeal, appeal
|
Sniff the cocaine hill off a bill, it¡¯s surreal
|
With chopsticks lift the eel with skill
|
The deal was to keep the pitcher fill
|
My signature was written on the bill
|
They Fisher Price mic grippers
|
Tip them light like strippers illicit
|
Two piece chicken with the biscuit
|
This is simplistic
|
I had the iron in my fist when I enlisted
|
I was twisted off of strawberry cough
|
The Pelle¡¯s very soft
|
The Pirelli¡¯s on course
|
I¡¯m heavy with the floss
|
Cock sucker get lost
|
Grind hard for the paper
|
This is tip of the glacier
|
Sip the Henny without the chaser
|
Piss on the city from the skyscraper
|
Face your fears
|
Your prayers fell on deaf ears
|
We parked the yacht by the pier
|
And shot the deer
|
My bitch rock the weird Moncler
|
Resemble Pam Grier
|
My vision is clear
|
I sip the Everclear
|
My wounds is severe
|
My skin is unfair
|
The fair make the rare gun flare
|
Shit your underwear
|
Can¡¯t steal my thunder
|
You¡¯s a fucking square
|
And I swear I shed a thug¡¯s tear
|
Say a thug¡¯s prayer
|
|
-----------------
|
Thugs Prayer, Pt. 2
|
Roc Marciano |