Make It Out

I'm bout to talk to y'all souls, look, uh Every night I pray the lord my soul to keep

I feel like he ignoring me I'm traumatized I keep one in the head before

I go to sleep These demons on my shoulders moving closer

They controlling me Life's a bitch I hope that pussy sweeter

Than a Georgia peach It's not though, Glock come with a switchie

Yeah we cop those, we load em up with shells Lil nigga these ain't no tacos

I'm from the trenches, I be in the streets more than potholes, we get spicy over cheese

Nigga these ain't nachos, these hands work It don't cost me shit to get your man's merc

Play with my money or my kids, I'll wear that tan shirt

Number one rule if you in the streets you better blam first