Pray For Em'

Lyrics

[Intro: F. Mills] You ready? Overtime Let's get it Pray for em Let em know! [Verse 1: F. Mills] Look, only team that I'm forever repping man is L Hustle If you were smart you would join along or we can't trust you Dj Gemini and Skinnyman call em gang busters Get you ghost summon Mac Strongg He the gang's muscle Let's get it Back to business Man I'm wrecking shit I'll take ya bitch to my residence We going in, ain't no hesitance Fuck I was doing this before a black President Look, old hoes say they disappointed Call me now they have to make appointments Remember back when I was dolo My pain and heartache it was their enjoyment Now my money high it's so anointed Back and riding like I'm off deployment I do the hiring now Ain't no time for sorting Niggas certified to fortify the fort and I tote the .45 or bring the sword in I know it's in my eyes that I'm the boy and Ain't no playing wit niggas I'm not for toying Ain't no playing with triggas I'm not for warring Ain't no playing with pictures I'm going foreign Catch me domestically before the touring You best to invest me before I soar in Too late to claim the team if you weren't before and We all in the mezzanine wit ya hoe and She say she never seen the marble flooring Who ever thought the flow would open up doors and Who ever thought this flow would open up stores and [Hook: F. Mills] Private shopping we a beast wit it It was heaven sent Tried to stop me going East wit it man it was written See me hailing from the Midwest I'm on the road to get it Most of y'all scared to handle business 2x [Verse 2: F. Mills] Dropping projects like the government Put out Overtime and then I'm subbing it wit Favorite Season, then we bubbling bitch Then I drop another then I crumble ya shit These times are crucial ain't no humbling shit Ya plays are useless you keep fumbling shit These days of doing it are over with They poppin bottles man I'm on some sober shit All of theses lames get squared off Jay in the cut taking heads off We from the North but go dead South I make enough so no bread bounce We load them buses go air it out They get to bussin that lead out Who gon step up who gon say it now We into closing they damn mouth [Hook: F. Mills] Private shopping we a beast wit it It was heaven sent Tried to stop me going East wit it man it was written See me hailing from the Midwest I'm on the road to get it Now mufuckas bout to bare witness You mufuckas bout to bare witness