| Dear Lord could ya help us help us help us
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| Forever mobbin'
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| Let’s go
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| Yuh
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| Street smart intellectual
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| G card reptible
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| At start half the mom and pops
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| Split apart sectional, yeah
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| Shot a Glock before I ever dropped my testicles
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| Hatin' on the next mans spot
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| That’s where I set you
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| Youngin' with a onion to pound
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| Breakin down the dimes
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| Sippin' NyQuil before ever pourin' the slime
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| Bro said they might tell
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| Supply yourself through the crime
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| I’m the type well just reppin' my kind
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| Neighborhood hobby catch a body it’s a safety net
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| Poppin off a Bobby asking God why you ain’t take me yet
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| Probably kept mo' bad dreams than a Navy vet
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| Listen to a Christian walk with Christ take baby steps
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| G more I miss em for swishas
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| Grabbin the change pop
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| Thugs and a sinner who wondering when the pain stop
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| Drugs for dinner up in hell burnin' the flames high
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| Lovin' the winter hiding tears still the rains drop
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| Dear Lord could ya help us help us help us
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| Yeah we carrying guilt
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| So please don’t hold your peace
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| If we’re buried in filth
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| Too many sheep gettin' buried in silk
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| Dear Lord could ya help us help us help us
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| For real I’m up to my neck in regrets and apologies
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| I’m ready to confess and tell you yes if you say follow me
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| It’s real
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| Ay
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| Flow mine like a buoy
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| Slow mob in a buie
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| Beneath the city lights
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| And getting right i learned to find beauty within this gritty life
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| E’ery thing cost
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| To be the boss it’s a pretty price
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| Where niggas starvin' for the cheese like some skinny mice
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| Before the karma and the drama it was kinda fun
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| Kickin' up dust we heard the sirens then it’s time to run
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| Stole my first Llama cuz my momma wouldn’t buy me one
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| By age 15 had me playin with a tommy gun
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| I stashed the cush in the bush by my parent’s house
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| And used to keep my jackets outside
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| Trying to air em out
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| Dippin in a stolo screamin yolo
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| Since knee high it was Levi’s and All-Stars
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| Was never into Polo
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| It’s hot here we survivin through the sauna
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| Get tied into the drama just for trying to prove your honor
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| And you gotta be a rider when your rivals movin' on ya
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| Left leakin out your vitals hopin God will move up on ya
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| The gang flame we bang the sunset when the night came
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| Jail bound I’m workin on my knife game
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| We fry with no education or ride with no hesitation
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| And die for our reputation putting gouda over Christ’s name
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| Young nigga with depression in his eyes
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| I’m losing all my homies in this wretched genocide
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| When they stretched him they left him with intestines on his thighs
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| I just pray he found his lessons when he died
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| But I know the truth
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| I used to be deceived as they come
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| Smokin weed holding peas throwin bees with a gun
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| I was claimin' I loved God but not receivin' His Son
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| As if He was never grieved when He sees what I’ve done
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| If them shells rained and murder me was headed for hells flames
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| Eternally I thank you for turning me undeservedley
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| I used to pray nervously
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| But now I pray fervently ya purchased me and purposed me
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| To serve you over currency
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| Dear Lord could ya help us help us help us
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| Yeah we carrying guilt
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| So please don’t hold your peace
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| If we’re buried in filth
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| Too many sheep gettin' buried in silk
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| Dear Lord could ya help us help us help us
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| For real I’m up to my neck in regrets and apologies
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| I’m ready to confess and tell you yes if you say follow me |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Help Us , by - Şevin. Song from the album From the Park to the Palace, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп