hate you in death How could you leave me here all alone Poor souls wait for the Lord Paying for sins which have not been paid in life Pray for the dead for
Перевод: Беда. Молиться о мертвых.
you in death how could you leave me here all alone [Chorus] poor souls wait for the Lord paying for sins which have not been paid in life pray for the dead - for
a pinch of coke Listen tho' I'm missin dough I gotta gather mo' Hell naw, dead blocks with red tops but now a nigga sell words for all my young thugs
do is from the heart so it reflect my name Forgive me for my sins father, I feel like I'm goin insane Media criticising me for checking niggas, fuck it
They waitin' for that decline pray that I lose my mind They never want me to shine but I observe that trouble I will serve that Ear to the streets never
dead on arrival No suspects have been taken into custody} {Combs' trouble seems to continue As he turned himself in today to local police For an alleged
on the jet The guns are drawn and I ain't talking about a sketch I pay these niggas with a reality check Prepare for the worst but still praying for
us Lay your head on mama's breast and rest, yeah Everybody got a mother and you know what I'm talking about Mama's dead, mama's dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead
become enemies And foul niggas got the tendency You gotta watch what you wish for I hope to God it's on a switchboard When I'm tryin' to say a prayer
rolls once more Into the ravenous night of hunger pains That keep our troubled souls awake We are forbidden to explain A mother to the living, a mother to the dead
soul is your best friend My mama prayed for me Tell the Lord to make way for me, prepare any day for me (why?) Cause when they come for me they find
Won't you be my prom queen? (Another morning) Won't you be my prom queen? Everybody has a real good time Won't you be my prom queen? (It's time for my
dead broke, we are still equal One time for the lil people Eat ya meal, don't let ya meal eat you (I run with trouble... trouble) Street runner we crazy
His self accusin' spirit of his past (But our Lord knows mercy is greater than his wrath) So in that, I not only pray for me, I pray for he My dead
boat Like a mighty leviathan of old With cracks in our feet we beat foreign streets We got stranded, we canvassed for answers But the prayers we prayed
shepherds His flock We sing out and we praise His name He supports us in war He presides over football games And the right will prevail All our troubles
They waitin' for that decline Pray that I lose my mind They never want me to shine But I observe that Trouble I will serve that Ear to the streets Never
