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 niggas 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

Damn, 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 killers

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 clicks

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 hella 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 hell just to try and find the peace