Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Speak On It, artist - Guerilla Maab
Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Song language: English
Speak On It |
Good Lord, I wanna thank you |
For waking me up, to see another |
New day, I’ve never seen before |
Forgive me for my sins, whether they |
Be by word, thought, or deed |
Omission or commission, Lord please bless me |
With the blessings you say |
I stand in need of, when I’ve done everything |
On this earth, that you laid out for me to do |
Lord please bless me with a home |
Somewhere in your kingdom |
Even the lowest of the low |
In Jesus name I pray, amen |
Seem like the light is so close |
I can feel my soul, about to vacate |
Make me wonder, am I right for God |
Cause I don’t wanna get denied, at the pearly gate |
Even though I been cut throat, tripping off PCP |
Telling all my friends, to take a hike |
But it’s fucked up, thinking bout tapes |
From other niggas, when they on pot they can break the mic |
No time for pussy, I gotta pump packs in the projects |
Plus I gotta pimp the pen, if I wanna get paid |
I can’t feel sorry gotta do the deed, and get up in the wind |
Gotta get some dividends, and if I don’t die |
I’mma seek forgiveness of my sins, and if I get denied |
Even though I tried, I’mma burn for the rest of the devil men |
But the Lord gon give it, and the Lord gon take it |
Away, so I can’t trip on my life |
It was my time to go, somebody take care of my child |
And raise him up right, plus these niggas be living so shife |
I don’t want my seed, to get corrupted |
Give him so much game, when I die |
He gon live as if the lessons, ain’t interrupted |
Just to show how fucked up, the game can get |
Big Steve, money came up missing |
I was up in the car, so I’m a suspect of the crime |
But a nigga ain’t tripping, all I can say is that I’m a G |
And I just won’t touch it, unless I own it |
Wish I could tell Steve, I don’t steal I’m gon' grind |
For mine, so I’mma bleed the block if I want it |
Can’t believe it |
I’m gon have to ride tonight |
Roll on, roll on |
Holding plexes, pulling pistols |
They play with your life |
Roll on roll on, or get stoled on |
He that is without the sin, let him cast the first stone |
But unless your father, can make the wind blow |
When I see a check, please leave me alone |
Because I never asked nobody, for nothing |
I just accepted, what I was given |
Even though I’m po', I pray to let God know |
That I’m thankful to be still living, yeah I’d rather be a slave in heaven |
Than to be, the most comfortable cat in hell |
But I’m too good for one, and too bad for one |
So I’m between the two, I gotta sell |
Living on lock, familiar with songs and proverbs |
When the ways of the world, start to trip |
When I can’t take it, I smoke too much |
That explains, that black shit around a nigga lip |
The Lord is my light, and my salvation |
But I still slip away, with natural herbs |
I don’t be smoking weed, to look cool fool |
I got a problem, I do it to calm my nerves |
Now the preacher, wanna see me on Sunday |
But knowing I’mma bleed the block, first thang come Monday |
I don’t go, cause another no show |
Said I’ll fuck around and die, when I walk in the do' |
Never go be talking about a nigga, behind his back |
I’mma do it to him in his face, ho checking a bitch |
About what he might of said a few days ago, talking down in a safe place |
But it ain’t safe, for the presence of a god damn fool |
That’ll squeeze, and make a motherfucker blood come down |
Heavily armed, with an automatic round |
When I frown, it ain’t real cool to stick around |
Plus I found, that a relationship ain’t shit |
When I was fucking, with one of these hoes |
She done fucked it up, for the rest of the women |
Cause I ain’t trying to fuck, with none of these hoes |
Some of my partnas, that’d turn to foes |
That’d turn to struggling, from balling |
But I’m crooked as ever, but the world is so crooked |
I hope that God, ain’t tired of me calling |
Now if I said, that I’d rather be dead |
Instead of going through, the struggle and the pain |
Here to make logical sense, but when I get in a predicament |
I still be trying, to maintain |
Don’t wanna lose my life, I wanna choose to live my life right |
But it’s hard to decide, like a devil in disguise |
That be pulling the wool up over my eyes |
And trying to get me, to swallow my pride |
But I be ready to ride, and won’t be denied |
Even if I died, motherfuckers know I tried |
To keep a bullet out of that body, I cried |
Everytime I put it inside, to make another nigga cap-size |
But if somebody, wanna put me under the ground |
Somebody better have a good plan |
I’m a man, that’ll be ready to break a bastard off |
But I don’t wanna die, living in a casket why did a |
Bitch wanna set my partna up, cause it really got up under my skin |
But I ain’t tripping, when a nigga feeling with |
One up in the chamber, just to get a little bit of revenge |
I can’t even keep a girlfriend, everybody be fucking with me |
And got my name, in a negative whirlwind |
I be ready for the trumpet to blow, and even if I don’t get to go |
I still, wanna see the world end |
Cause I be tired, of feeling this anger |
Feeling the premonition of danger, with every breath |
I be tired of watching my back, and packing a gat |
And living 24−7, up in a motherfucking vest |
God bless me, cause everybody wanna test me |
So I don’t even talk, on my Prime Co. phone |
Leave a message, and press three |