Testo Gospel - NB King
Testo della canzone Gospel (NB King), tratta dall'album Nostalgia
I just hope I live to see a nigga touch a mill
Everyday we grievin' cause them homies gettin' killed
Should've seen the NBA or NFL, these niggas skilled
Momma's cryin', baby boy ain't live the life he ain't fulfill
I think about my dogs them fallen soldiers, give me chills
I wish you seen the work we put in for this shit for real
But if you don't agree with what me and my niggas built
Just keep yourself away from you end up like Emmett Till
I'm the realest one, I love to tell them that I'm real
Block was full of shooters, Dinwidde and Bradley Beal
Sharper than a knife, you know my heart was full of steel
That boy was sweepin' shit, them lawyers want him to appeal
His momma screamin' innocent, but he ain't wanna tell her
Scared to live his life behind them bars and gettin' letters
Was bout to graduate, this nigga fuckin' up his cheddar
But now he full of pain and he gon' live with this forever
They say I rap like I'm a preacher, but I'm scared to go to church
My brother doin' 50 in the cell, that nigga hurt
Other brother gone, they puttin' faces on the merch
I know a nigga died while his girl was givin' birth
Is this the shit that karma do when niggas doin' dirt
His son ain't even one, he seen his daddy on a shirt
Look over your shoulders, you paranoid or alert
My brody praise the Allah, he tryin' get me to convert
I gotta come in first, cause I can never come in second
If you ain't God first, then you won't live to see a second
Shorty told me pull up, I'ma be there in a second
And when I have a son, I might just name his ass a second
Mirrors be the worst when you can't stand in your reflection
You tryna find a lane, but you can't pick the right direction
Walkin' with that glizzy, claimin' that it's for protection
The feds done did a sweep, they addin' shit to they collection
I just hope I live to see a nigga touch a mill
Everyday we grievin' cause them homies gettin' killed
Shoulda seen the NBA or NFL, these niggas skilled
Momma's cryin', baby boy ain't live the life he ain't fulfill
I think about my dogs, them fallen soldiers give me chills
And wish you seen the work we put in for that shit for real
And if you don't agree with what me and my niggas built
Just keep yourself away from you, end up like Emmett Till
For real
Credits
Writer(s): Anthony Hawkins
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