Ransom & Rome Streetz Feat. The Game - Pray For The Weak

Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Lord Sear]
DJ Lord Sear on the ones and twos
Harlem World, stand up!

[Verse 1: Ransom]
Yeah, no moral compass on my plate of sins
In this world that'll celebrate when the haters win
When on the cusp of greatness, don't get accustomed to making friends
Momma told me the shit that makes a man is to make amends
Was never into all the latest trends, now my weight is thin
But shit, you can't judge a picture if you gon' break the lens
Lay a gem, drop jewels constantly on the hottest beats
Cause sonically I'm likе Socrates on the crowded street
Thе Gil Scott-Heron of heroin, flyest elegance, intelligence
Everything that I write is fire and eloquent
You niggas gon' notice when you inspired for relevance
A different man but still'll send killers inside your residence (Blatt)
Just tap my shoulder when it's getting realer, give ten to Sheila
Cause she come from a place the fiends can outlive the dealers
You don't know the half of it, waving sticks like a magic trick
Get half the clip, I ain't never been on no rapper shit

[Chorus: Ransom]
These ghetto street gospels (Yes) food for the soul
Turn street niggas to apostles, you need me and I got you (I got you)
Don't brace for defeat, just keep your place on your feet
So you can pray for the weak and be my prey for the week (Let's go)
Disciples that'll hold a twelve gauge when they preach
Writing scriptures that'll take you twelve days to repeat
I said these ghetto street gospels (Yes) food for the soul
Turn street niggas to apostles, you need me and I got you (I got you)
Don't brace for defeat, just keep your place on your feet
So you can pray for the weak and be my prey for the week (Let's go)
Disciples that'll hold a twelve gauge when they preach
Writing scriptures that'll take you twelve days to repeat

[Verse 2: The Game]
Lounging in this Maybach, twisting a 'Wood
I'm good, I wish you well same time as I wish you would
Just got off the phone with Suge, reflecting 'bout some past shit
Death Row, Aftermath shit, conversations be classic
Keep the .22 on plastic cause drama be everlasting
Money sewed up and plastered in the walls, in the mattress
If I ever gotta cut it open, that mean I walked in the crib
Holdin' my arm, limpin' with my gun smokin'
Revelations of the last days, vibing to the Fugees
Rubbing on this chick booty while dumping shit in this ashtray
It feels good just to be living your wildest dreams nigga
Walking 'round the Hamptons in Louis Vuitton Supreme slippers
I did my dirt, got out the mud, my triple beam tippin'
Niggas sleep in the trap like they brought a pint of lean with 'em
From that to this, washing my own Maybach and shit
Reminiscing back when I ain't even had a pack to flip

[Chorus: Ransom]
These ghetto street gospels (Yes) food for the soul
Turn street niggas to apostles, you need me and I got you (I got you)
Don't brace for defeat, just keep your place on your feet
So you can pray for the weak and be my prey for the week (Let's go)
Disciples that'll hold a twelve gauge when they preach
Writing scriptures that'll take you twelve days to repeat
I said these ghetto street gospels (Yes) food for the soul
Turn street niggas to apostles, you need me and I got you (I got you)
Don't brace for defeat, just keep your place on your feet
So you can pray for the weak and be my prey for the week (Let's go)
Disciples that'll hold a twelve gauge when they preach
Writing scriptures that'll take you twelve days to repeat

[Verse 3: Rome Streetz]
Ayo, they say the truth is hard to swallow like a large pill
They'll get a man hit, you's a bitch, look how they charge bills
Smack the shit out of Satan with a hand full of God's will
I'm on point when yo' handshake come with a odd feel
They love that we off the chart, they disregard skill
Before I had a A&R, I had a razor to carve krills
And vision of a hustler far from a Lyor deal
Thinking ghetto divas, now my broad wear Dior heels
Play grimy blocks with Glocks stashed by the car wheel
Curb served in the suburbs, my pockets all filled
If you ain't fit for the fire, don't let the Devil in
Keep him in the hole, he pop up then hit his head with 10
No friend, I was doley when it was dark and cold
Weak niggas thirsty for a deal but it'll cost yo' soul
Mommy told me, "Shine, your melanin is worth more than gold"
The game sick, this is medicine in the form of flows
No chips for the timid, the fortune's only for the bold
Knew I'll be that nigga way before I had my fortune told

[Chorus: Ransom]
These ghetto street gospels (Yes) food for the soul
Turn street niggas to apostles, you need me and I got you (I got you)
Don't brace for defeat, just keep your place on your feet
So you can pray for the weak and be my prey for the week (Let's go)
Disciples that'll hold a twelve gauge when they preach
Writing scriptures that'll take you twelve days to repeat