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letra de blank sheet - teks sinatra

i pray my mum won’t ever have to bury me
and if i go, i pray it’s never out of jealousy
i pray it’s not a friend and it’s an enemy
cos i don’t want familiarity to be the death of me
i pray my brothers win and i’m around to see
and if it’s my turn i pray that they’re around for me
i pray they only look at me for me, i swear
i don’t need no n-ggas looking through me, looking out for me
this games ments, and even though i never got it thought it’d makes sense
like ain’t no way them n-ggas really being fake friends
i must’ve missed a conversation or their statements
hard f–king pill to swallow but i faced it

cos everything’s a scam, everyone’s your brother till it really hit the fan
and i don’t see the difference from these junkies and these yutes
cos both sides will sell their f–king morals for the gram
ended with a blank sheet and started with a plan
cos when you realise you know nothing’s when you really understand
they don’t know your moves if they don’t know where you stand
gotta chop off both your legs just to keep the upper hand

d-mn, told my brother wish i listened in school
i used to think i’d make the league but weren’t the sickest at ball
i never spoke about my dreams, i was surrounded by k!llers
head shot the only way a n-gga spilling his thoughts

double dribbled couple times cos i was skipping the court
i was dying to live that had me living a fool
criminal but all my women had degrees i promise
i had teachers phoning home like i was skipping their school

tell the truth my biggest fear is going back from legit
so i can’t buss down the chain until i’m stupidly rich
and i can’t beef with rappers after views and some cl!cks
i never got that bit at first but now i’m used to this s–t

my time it’s not worth
label or the streets guaranteed he’s getting dropped first
dargy i ain’t rich but i know i been a lot worse
coppers in my pocket like i’m going through a stop search

them n-ggas love to talk, show h-lla gums
i really wish your brain was as busy as your tongue
if i tell my hitta get em, i promised he’ll get done
dealing with this pressure, chaotic it’s never fun

sorry for the times you can’t get to me on my phone
my mother’s losing faith, i hear it just through her tone
so i really got the time to speak
raising h-ll just to try and find the peace

- teks sinatra

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