Lyrics Help Me - Mac Dre

Help Me

Most of my brodies is ex cons and parolees
Drink heem and OD’s
Roll twomps and goldies
Get made from Goldie, 'cause Goldie the made man
Don’t fuck with blade men
Go hard like cavemaen
Ay man, I don’t think you understand though
I stalk the streets, with a Colt Commando
A Thug and a vandal, a walkin' scandal
Drink like ten fishes, smoke like candles
Pistol grip handle on the riot 12 gauge
Keep the rollers off me and out the jail cage
Got a twelve page letter from my folks in the rally’s
He got caught up in a riot and they shipped him outta Cali
Omaha, Texas, Leavenworth, Kansas
They got us spread out, I don’t know where my mans is
But it’s like this, I don’t complain
'Cause I knew about the game when I hopped in the thang
Lord, can you hear me?
Too many niggas dying
Living Cutthoat but they trying
Lord, you gots to help me
I know sometimes they wrong
Keep my niggas strong
Listen, I been walking the line
Piercing the wire, stepping with my chin up
Woke or sleep, my lids never shut
Protected but rapists stay PC’d up
Escorted by badges and handcuffs
Billy clubs and face shields to storm your cell
Search your locker, thirty days in lock up
From reminiscing with my celly, pretending
We daydreaming of flying, we high
Eternal freedom, but we paid the price for living this life
We cry inside, but only cold stares for the naked eye
A young boy with mafia ties, so while inside
The bricks and fences, got every tear stitched up
With coke and black pinheads twisted in zigzags
Watching time pass, 'cause I ain’t got nothing but time
Writing invisible lines on lined paper
But being secluded made my rhymes greater
So I stick to my music, song after song
I might make a hit over the phone
Hello?
Lord, can you hear me?
Too many niggas dying
Living Cutthoat but they trying
Lord, you gots to help me
I know sometimes they wrong
Keep my niggas strong
'92, '93, hit a lick, split a key
Flossin' on chips and spit a clip, the game was fun to me
It didn’t take me long to see it wouldn’t last though
How else can my cash grow?
Without the J team and task force coming to ask for me
I’m moving too fast, homie
I wish you would’ve got over the gate and I escaped with the cash, homie
But I’ll bust my gun to avoid the pen
We was young lights when you went it
But changed from boys to men, be home at 10
Do that, and come home, that ain’t no place for a player
Can’t make no money, ain’t no bitches in there, but life ain’t fair
But your world don’t stop, you gotta keep keep on
We pueblo no matter what street we on, the streets we roam
That’s why I ain’t wrote you when in here
But I’ll see you when I see you
If not, then when they lock the rider in
Then tough love, one thug
Issue a slug to that snitch nigga
Finish where we left off, I’mma get rich nigga
Lord, can you hear me?
Too many niggas dying
Living Cutthoat but they trying
Lord, you gots to help me
I know sometimes they wrong
Keep my niggas strong