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letra de 1 am in houston (freestyle) - sauce walka

(…in god’s hands
be grateful..)

[intro]
(conductor)
(be grateful)
(…)
i’m really what the streets been missing
i’m what the people need

[verse 1]
rain hit the meadow; i ill-strate the pain in the ghetto
pinocchio rapping n-ggas really made from gepetto
this for heroes in the hood that’ll never win medals
helping grannies cut the grass ’cause she can’t bend her elbows
giving knowledge to the kids really keeping it thorough
cause nowadays they’ll rob the candy boy for dinero
lil brodie got thе pistol on ’em sellin’ reese’s ‘n snickеrs
got jumped by the waterboys man this sh-t is ridiculous
these kids dying over selling sh-t you buy out of kroger’s
hard to know it’s a recession all these parties promoted
instagram hide they struggles with they braggin’ n boastin’
frontin’ n toastin’ they repo’d that car that you postin
police shootin’ at the lease (athletes) while the cameras recordin
highlights at his funeral that n-gga could have been jordan
how many accept the evil or just simply ignore it
tell my swiper don’t swipe but he had to explore it
the feds enjoyed it grabbed my brother up and imported ’em
committed white collar crime a white judge exploited ’em
struggle ain’t got no color its some white folks [?]
kicked out the mobile home cause they couldn’t afford it
father do construction work but n0body is ordering
wife cheating with the soccer coach her sister supporting it
she ain’t got no morals either these b-tches is sneaky
give your last to put yo woman first but the b-tch is freaky
government sent billion overseas but our syria[?] (sewers) leaking
tires burst from hitting potholes every f-cking weekend
no i never went platinum but i saved somebody’s life before
know i made some k!llers take they finger off that rifle though
washed away some suicidal thoughts and showed that life can glow
wish i could’ve made whitney houston not give her life to snow
her voice is needed
should i preach with rapper’s boys to sleep my flow orthopedic
diamonds in the watch dent mean nothing once yo time depleted
[refrain]
ooo wee
(in god’s hands, be grateful)
real like a pastor
(be grateful)
thats enough of that pain lets get to these
punchlines and metaphors and allat there

[verse 2]
i know a b-tch named shannon she sharp (sharpe) as ever
really undisputed when it come down to stealing cheddar
skip out to the bay to steal a watch nothing less than clever
this another sport around my center of pimp competitors
peter parker webs couldn’t stick with game we sellin ’em
all my enemies inboxed i’m emailing ’em
grew all of my millions from the root, i am groot, new galactic coupe
no my guardians ain’t racoons, but for sure they shoot
jim carey liar liar, i can only tell the truth
1997 in chicago eating chicken stew
struggle with no limits way before i heard a mr. cool (mystikal)
never had the hookup but i master what this pimping do
found a b-tch that’s bout it bout it, now i’m in the maserati
tag team champ dancing with the belt, scotty hotty
driving in the elon with musket on the side me
they said i’m the king around here as of last friday
oowee
(in god’s hands, be grateful…)
peso said do the whole beat know what i’m saying i was gone let them uh make it but f-ck it imma spaz back in this sh-t like this here

[verse 3]
got the south in the jericho leg lock
k!lled so many rappers i left women in wedlock
this ghetto gospel rare as nike yeezys on deadstock
he thinks its s-class and maybach but i swear its not
you ever bought some ice to cool ya stress when the feds hot
so many complications got you pulling ya dreads out
no knowledge reciprocation, preventing the elevation
we dumb as f-ck, waiting on the portable playstation
meanwhile the billionaires got all they play stations
dumb music got us brainwashed when we play the stations
tryna cleanse my soul on a yatcht eating plates with haitians
hope somebody listen to my story, know they can make it
you ain’t gotta be a rapper, you ain’t gotta be a trapper
you can be a bioengineer even be a actor
hard for me to believe these religions and be a pastor
i just know the universe done blessed me there is a master
weathering through disasters, how you hug yo brother set him up and then shoot him after
for some petty money and some jewelry that shouldn’t matter
how you show the world yo good side, but they do you badder
they’ll take the chips out yo palm, move to nevada
brodie snitched on his best friend for a chicken platter
you know that this sh-t get sadder, its like that
telling referees on the players (playas) over a light hack
f-ck it gangsta go do ya time and come right back
[refrain]
oowee im him
just vibe
(in god’s hands, be grateful)
this for ya soul
tsf business
this for the spirit
twin inspiration of this generation

- sauce walka

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