Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Wonder If I'm Blessed (slowed) , by - Z-Ro. Release date: 11.08.2001
Song language: English
Wonder If I'm Blessed (slowed) |
| Dear Lord, this is your boy Bam |
| Can’t nobody do what you done done God |
| One of the ghetto graduates, three men in here |
| Ready to deliver, number one, all they internal sins |
| On pen and paper, and right now, they fin to let |
| You know how it is, it’s a chance, God bless us |
| Allah, you number one |
| Well it’s my return, and I’ve been gone for too long |
| I’m in a different state of mind, yeah Wood is in the zone |
| Demonstrate the arsenal head shots, with red dots and wet spots |
| Soaking shirts up, till my churf up with red spots |
| Bag of leaves and the chronic trees, South Texas ki’s and let you weed |
| They jacking leaves for cake and cheese, I make the G’s and you may believe |
| Shouldn’t wish up on your clover leaf, wishing up on a star |
| Losing my memory behind a bar, all I want is drank out the jar |
| Locked in the Penn talking back to the guards, shooting the kite |
| Taking the back of my broad, pulling a candy Lac in my yard |
| Strapped up talking back to you boys, I’m armed alarmed and informed |
| And I’m hollin' on my own, for the rings to the pawn |
| Gotta pass up the coin, to the Tre where I was born |
| Wood, and I’m hot as a fire place, in a eskimo’s house |
| You get the, you get the, you get the splinters in your mouth |
| Quinbrown my hardest hood close to downtown, round for round |
| And pound for pound, I’m making you bitch boys bow down |
| I’ve been waiting patiently |
| I wonder if a nigga’s really blessed, cause I’m still here |
| Niggas steady, hating me |
| I wonder if a nigga’s really blessed, cause I’m still here |
| I’ve been waiting patiently |
| I wonder if a nigga’s really blessed, cause I’m still here |
| Why does he forsaken me |
| I wonder if a nigga’s really blessed |
| It ain’t my fault, my Lord please forgive me for static |
| But I had that line in my T.V., and being broke and don’t have it |
| I’m playing a deadly game of chess, over rugers and vests |
| Ride on hollow tips when I’m spitting, still into the flesh |
| Thug wounds got me paranoid, tattooed and scarred |
| Running away from the fraud, hiding behind tint in the car |
| I’m blowing sweet after sweet, real niggas in her feel me |
| Saran wrapping the duffle bag, swang bitching to bust me |
| I’m bout my paper, my Lord please don’t let it be in vein |
| I got a son two little girls, and they got hustle in they vein |
| Kamikaze with an infrared, scoping my mind |
| Puffing on lime swinging on 20's, bumping low on the ground |
| Satellite shaking bitches, putting cameras on cords |
| Puff the yay and pass the weed, cause everybody love marijuana |
| I’mma slap for you nigga, two hundred fifty on concrete |
| Moved patiently and silently, you dialing nigga |
| I watch my life pass me by, in the blink of an eye |
| Another stick of fry, cause the regular weed no longer get me high |
| Popping extasy like Aspirin, come down a nigga block blasting |
| You don’t wanna meet that reaper nigga, you hoes come off my cash man |
| I’m trying to keep it holy, this thug life keep calling my name |
| Every now and then I take a loss, but see that’s all in the game |
| Look at what you did to me, I’m free but I’m still living on lie |
| Everyday it’s one mo' murder, one mo' partna that drop |
| I wonder if the sun shines on the other side |
| Cause I bet my mama ain’t seen a rainy day, since she died |
| I’m a living legend still in the flesh, automatic assault rifle and a vest |
| Cause my partnas try to put me to rest |
| So I treat my pistol like a queen, as I fiend for the green |
| And I never put anyone before my bitch, I’m jealous as I service my beam |
| A murdering team, forgive me for my sins O’Lord |
| But I’m trying to make it, cause this ghetto life is so hard |
| (*talking*) |