| You think God hears a prayer said in Hell
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| Just know I’m doing life in a 6 square mile cell
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| That I’m sharing with a 100 000 sisters and brothers
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| Were sentenced to death for sins of thy father
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| and being birthed here by our mothers
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| And I wouldn’t trade it in for the worlds weight in gold
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| And they haven’t built one like me since me I am told
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| Shot my first gun when only a few feet tall I stood
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| And it wasn’t with my father out hunting in the woods
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| It was in the streets of my city handgun in my hand
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| Shooting at the other kids, but you wouldn’t understand
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| See none of us had fathers, well our fathers weren’t a man
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| It was a woman called our mother and we would struggle and
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| It wasn’t living it was surviving and we were constantly at war
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| War left me nerves of steel and I don’t feel much anymore
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| And love is just a word that I say
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| And I can’t live it because I see it get people killed all day
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| 3 little brothers incarcerated I don’t say it for your pity
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| I mean I can still get you stabbed behind the wall if you fuck with me
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| I was born to die here in Flint
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| And I haven’t done that yet so in turn I ain’t done shit
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| But lie here naked in the tub, filling it up with blood
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| Thinkin' how I’m gonna get even, while my body drained of love
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| They tried to take my life at 27
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| I tried to take my life too motherfucker it just wasn’t happening
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| I just wanna shoot and bring a body back to Michigan
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| That’s points on the board
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| I was stayin' up all nite when you would sleep and you would snore
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| And they wanna say I don’t deserve this
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| I gave up my life to get here, you wanna talk about purpose
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| You have no purpose speaking
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| They get killed for that where I come from nearly every fuckin' evening
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| La Petite Mort,
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| La Petite Mort,
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| La Petite Mort,
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| La Petite Mort,
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| Tell 'em the whole story, tell 'em you surround yourself with ill intentions
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| How its bad karma and it eats at you and your henchmen
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| Father can you hear this, I know I’m asking and I’m worthless
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| But can you take the shackles from my ankles
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| Can you remove the bracelets from my wrists
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| Father can you send for me like I’ve climbed off into the wind
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| And it carried me far away from here
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| And I would never come back here again
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| Cause father I’m a rolling stone
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| And my daddys not around and my mamma ain’t home
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| And the law is always coming after me
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| And its like I got the Devil on the back of me
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| I was brought up in schools where they shoot each other in elementary
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| 6 years old we put kids in the cemetery
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| So when you go to bury me a 100 fuckin' men will have to carry me
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| Why I’ll weigh a ton, why I’ll be carryin' a 100 fuckin' guns
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| Cuz we die before we run, money don’t buy respect, money doesn’t cure pain
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| It doesn’t take the scars out of my face its who I am, were not the same
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| When I get down on my knees to pray the bullet wounds just ache in my legs
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| And I’m not supposed to be on the worlds stage
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| And People aren’t supposed to hear the words I say
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| Cuz I’ve seen death and crying and suffering
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| And you all speak but you’ve never seen a fuckin' thing
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| Cuz you are weak cocksucker and I am KING
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| Or a God in this land as a conscious being
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| You know sex still sells and drugs still sell
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| But the truth doesn’t sell never has never will
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| I’m on the front line, I catch the bullet first
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| My Brothers carry me or bury me whatever works
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| Why whenever you speak its from a safe place
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| Cuz you don’t wanna have all these holes in your face
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| And you don’t want addicted to how your own blood tastes
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| You don’t wanna have to get even for murder that’s taken place
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| So I’m riding around loaded gun looking for the enemy
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| Pray that when I see him God do your best to help me
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| But don’t help me be the better man
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| Help me have clear vision, help me have a steady hand
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| Help me bring this child back to you and if his family seeks revenge well
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| I’ll be sending them on up too
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| Before you have an opinion know you would never do what I did to get here
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| You’d never save up what I saved up
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| You’d never give up what I gave up left em layin' face up
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| So this morning when my Brothers woke
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| Tell them to give my things to everyone I know
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| And give a message to my father too
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| Tell him I see his face on everyone I shoot
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| It makes it easy to do…
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| La Petite Mort
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| La Petite Mort
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| La Petite Mort
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| La Petite Mort… |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song La Petite Mort, artist - King 810. Album song La Petite Mort or a Conversation with God, in the genre Ню-метал