| Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
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| Help me with pationts, and taking my time
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| Lord help me shake these devils off inside
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| Whys murder always on my mind
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| I’m always plotten, tryna find my way
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| Just to get me payed, and have my family straight
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| Most of those ways, goin end up with graves
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| Or beef, cause he see my face
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| Young niggas wilden in these streets these days
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| Tell 'm that, I guess I’m part of the reason though
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| I be bustin, I wasn’t tryna have anybody killed
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| Never be able to tell, what my niggas might do when it comes to me
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| Why I create so many pussy niggas
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| Something I’m bothered by everyday I live
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| They the ones that perceived it’s real
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| I can’t imagine what I’ve done to my liver
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| Drinkin liquor, in runnin round the streets since I was ten
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| Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
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| Help me with pationts, and taking my time
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| Lord help me shake these devils off inside
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| Whys murder always on my mind
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| Lord, help me stash and throw away this pistol
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| If they run up on me, Imma abuse this clip till I empty this pistol
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| If you run up on me, it might be better to stay safe, and say it’s over, fool
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| Father forgive me, see that caskit, Imma close it
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| I been drinkin, thinkin of homies in heaven too many nights
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| Hard to stay here, while the angels takin too many flights
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| And though I fight, I feel like it’s only in myself
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| And I feel so much pain, I feel like I’m in hell myself
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| They took my brother, took my niggas
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| Took my sisters, feel like I lost it all
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| Got a nigga feelin like I got nobody to call
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| Real shit, feel like a nigga will fall
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| Somebody better get this motherfuckin thing off my back
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| Before I use it, come inside, and lay him flat
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| Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
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| Help me with pationts, and taking my time
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| Lord help me shake these devils off inside
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| Whys murder always on my mind
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| The way I’m prayen for forgivnis, prayin for whisdem
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| Survived plenty wars, bullits bairly missed them
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| I’m prayin by my loanly
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| Half of these preechers phoney
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| Trouble, you ain’t ever had a friend, you know I’m with you, homie
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| They took him to the grave
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| He played the crime way
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| A free slave, caged up a thousand days
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| All of my niggas facing charges, they was home robbed
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| They can’t phone they lawyers, reason they was robbed
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| Prayin till my knees hurt
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| Lord, know I need help
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| Smokin weed constantly, numb the pain I felt
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| Whole life in the streets, without it, where would I be
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| What would I be without your blessings, you keep saving me
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| Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
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| Help me with pationts, and taking my time
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| Lord help me shake these devils off inside
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| Whys murder always on my mind |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Help Me , by - Trouble. Song from the album The Return of December 17th, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп