Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Pray for Him , by - Nick Cannon. Release date: 10.12.2019
Song language: English
Pray for Him |
| Marshall |
| We still waitin' |
| Now we gotta pray for him (Haha) |
| (It's incredible) |
| Lord, forgive us I know that it’s kinda wrong |
| For five brothers this talented to be on one song (Facts) |
| But that white boy, he is nice (He is) |
| But he crossed the black man, Lord Jesus Christ (He gotta go) |
| We gon' pray for him (Uh), and move Hailie out the way when we spray cans |
| We don’t shoot kids and women (Nah), we shootin' amen (Amen) |
| Look, that double entendre kinda heavily (It was) |
| Damn, Em', what you like five minutes away from seventy? |
| (Oh man, hah) |
| Oops, I meant forty-seven (Ah) |
| Send him to Hell if he bored of Heaven (Bored of Heaven) |
| Strappin' the dynamite, word to Floyd and Evans (Good times) |
| I get to gripin' the Glock, he better call a reverend (Raah) |
| And give Eminem falls and knock him out his Jordan 7's (Woo) |
| Oh, you got your own sneakers? |
| That’s okay (That's wassup) |
| Well, to let you know, them Wild’n Out out Jordans is on the way (Facts) |
| Nah, I ain’t do this verse for the fame or the clout (Not at all) |
| I did this verse to say keep my brother name out your mouth (Ah, incredible) |
| I mean at this point it’s bullyin', 'cause I know he ain’t gon' clap back |
| So I don’t be dealin' with these rap cats |
| I’m the best and that’s that |
| Put that on everything, get my CashApp |
| A bunch of red rags and black 'Lacs |
| Incredible, they catch me with this, I’m goin' federal |
| I’ve been a star, your favorite actress wanna get sexual |
| You’ve been afraid, Em', this ain’t that renegade, Em |
| Where you ain’t purp’d up, you sweeter than lemonade, Em' |
| Black Squad, you won’t link with them |
| See, you tried to bully P! |
| nk and them |
| Britney Spears and NSYNC and them |
| And got the beefin' with Ja Rule with the cops behind you |
| And every show since '04, you’ve had to swat behind you |
| Man, y’all find a all-time great in a small town lake |
| I hawk 'em down with the K |
| Don’t you got a cash flow? |
| What the fuck you mad for? |
| Subtract you, add a casket, that’s the aftermath, ho, Holla |
| Hi Slim, let’s kill it with all the chit-chat |
| Eminem, but you get the sticks, now that’s a Kit Kat (Kat) |
| So, wait, dammit, you mad that you ain’t Cannon |
| All them pills, you stay crammin' still givin' you brain damage (B-B-Brain |
| damage) |
| Your guilty conscious told you, you was the man and all |
| But now you just a circus act, 'cause you stay up on cannonballs (Balls) |
| You always hide in your trailer, we know you big mad (Mad) |
| Get your bitch to run in our lap like this is gym class (Woo) |
| 'Cause all my niggas just stand up like Sinbad |
| Big Mac in the can that get rid of slim fast (Blah) |
| Instead of stayin' in the booth to get your rhymin' out |
| It’s season 15, here’s your invite to Wild’n Out |
| Ain’t no bad-doin', 'cause all of my troops thorough (Thorough) |
| Ain’t got no bitch, Glock Nina, my new girl (off on her) |
| I’m sick of all my homies keep dyin', might puke Earl (Eugh) |
| God should’ve took Em' and just let us keep Juice WRLD |
| Look, Nick, my brother, you dissed him, that gotta suffer |
| I told him, «Don't diss you back, let us handle this motherfucker» |
| Look, I scratched the serial number off of the baby llama |
| Em' ain’t seen a ratchet this dirty since his baby-mama |
| Goddamn, y’all niggas ain’t had to do him like that |
| Shit, we don’t do it, we over-do it |
| You play fucked up games, win fucked up prizes |
| All this cocaine out here, and you wanna put your nose in my business |
| Told you, I ain’t had to rap on this motherfucker |
| You know what? |
| I’m not gon' rap |
| I’ma just do what you did, haha |
| You used to be in a position to talk to kids and they listen |
| Now you a politician? |
| You voted for Trump, bitch, admit it (Ha) |
| They used to call you a menace and that shoe fit you wore (Not no more) |
| But now you gettin' facelifts like a Instagram-whore (Yoy bitch) |
| Used to be the king of the world, Ludacris, lucrative lyrics |
| Now all you do is just growl |
| Like you got tourettes and the sterics |
| Maybe it’s your mommy issues (Haha) |
| Maybe your white devilish spirit (You the devil) |
| He made the original music that your fans used to cherish |
| Now you’re debated, disputed, hated |
| And viewed in America as a motherfuckin' drug addict (Bitch) |
| You’ll never be a legend (Marshall) |
| Em', you should really start to stare at who’s in the mirror |
| Look at all the fuckin' botox, bitch, I know you’re embarrassed (Hahaha) |
| Fuck all the tricks and the gimmicks |
| You like the new white supremacist |
| Say the same fuckin' sentences |
| Nigga, you ain’t no lyricist |
| Lam, blam, flam, flam, take Xans and train xans |
| I bet you never thought the kill shot will come from the cannon, blaow |
| You used to be a renegade |
| «Ayy, no one did it, Nick Cannon was gonna start wildin' out on me, |
| wildin' out on me» |
| (It's incredible) |