Lost Prophets (feat. Mike Melinoe & Justking Jones)

Still thinking bout my unborn

Two months my heart warm

Jotting on a screen but when I sprouted it was guns drawn

Who used to sleep where bullets beat you home hope you ain’t die for it

Never had a sports car

Your granny told me those scars will heal in time you won’t find

Flights that changed my profile

Soon you will be court-side

Surround by the most high

Power juice the third lid

Extra in my fur bih

I prefer the worst shit

It’s that or shift purpose

Cuz you don’t gotta lie for it

But you gone have to fight for it

Militant the top force

The hell you need a job for

That's why i bake the pie for

Educate your kind joy

Walk around this fine soil

Never be afraid unless you willing to be perfect

Plotting made me profit read on prophets in the sermon

Drama surface ocean breeze with surfers calm the nerves

The energy in solitude compartmentalize surge

Package all my damages

Watch how you manage it

i ain’t losing sleep watching over you till 3

AM to the PM steady plotting on some cream

Ya papa be the hustler

Satisfy the customer

Bitch this full time and OT

Shit KD off the post

Hey you ain’t know the god before beats

Homies fled with mo beef

Shawty cruising in the Jeep low key

I ain’t skip a practice cuz I figured I would go pro

Locked in off the chokehold

A year later in my mom's basement the house foreclosed

The breeze cut deeper than the North Pole

My debt been stacking high I’d prolly fall forward

Stumbled in some pussy till the car warm

I gotta jet the lonely stretch of ideas

I seen vivid while the car pulls off