Dear Lord Come here today to ask for Your forgiveness I said, well, you just can't hold on sometimes When there's twelve or thirteen different individuals You just hold on Workin' on one beat They don't know I'm different, Lord We ask that You forgive them And show mercy (Uh) on their souls Before the Porsche shift was Tiptronic Shoebox with twenty-five in the closet (Cash) Used to put discs inside the Ensoniq Before I had an account to make deposits Now I'm a style father Sinks made of marble, I bathe in Nile water All this came from makin' faders fly Dinner's served, I don't finish 'til the plate is dry I could see a silver glow in the grayest sky You could book me for a show, but the pay is high To get a tracker, need to amputate a limb (Cut off a leg) With the apron and the mitten, I'ma bake a pie Chain hangin' low and jinglin' They sayin' that the man is on roads in England Iceberg, I'm a mug with a frozen drink in it Try to float over me with a boat, I'm sinkin' it (Lord, we call on You now to give these bums guidance) When I paint, apply an extra coat to strengthen it Then I apply the lacquer Make it sparkle like a final master Just a little piece of vinyl capture Play the track, break it back, and get a spinal fracture (Amen, God is great) I said, well, you just can't hold on sometimes Yeah, look You just hold on He on point Breakin' in this bitch, I'm a Kia Boy '07 ATL, I was with Chase Think it was the same year I met Drake Crazy we been goin' up since MySpace Niggas stealin' styles, that's a crime wave I be on the cusp every fuckin' year But my black skin won't let me in the clear Homie said I need to work with white artists to win at the Grammys (Damn) I'm so Black that all I think I need is just some prayers for my granny (Hey) I'm doin' the work (Yeah) and lettin' it show (Ayy) You doin' the worst (Uh), refusin' to grow (Damn) Bring back morals, bring back shame Bring back sockin' niggas in they face Like the '90s, like the Death Row days You know what it seem like (For real) This whole shit is funny, three strikes (Shit is crazy) Shout to Brian Hooks Bottega store, tryin' looks (Wait) Check the man in the mirror Man, I do it every day, I'm thinkin' bigger Boy, I feel like RZA, got the method, man I just went to Sam's and threw seven bands Got my feet on land, don't get left on read C3 make me wanna be a better man Losin' this bond, nigga, I would never chance it Alan on the track, this one a classic God is great I said, well, you just can't hold on sometimes You just hold on