corrija a letra Letra Praying For My Soul por Smoke DZA

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Letra

Yeah, ayy, yeah

I've done been through all this shit
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul
Tell me, you can't tell me shit
I been all up on the go
I been all up on the go
Chasing shit I want the gold
I been chasing all the chips
I've been plotting, I can't fall
I've been plotting, I can't fall
I've been plotting, I can't fall
Ive done been through all this shit
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul

Ya whole life invalid as a Facebook fact
I got some cake put back
Don't get ya waves pushed back
45 make it harder if ya face look black
Every state took flake
Every race look wack
My homeboy Homebase everyday cook crack
Like ace cooked that
Around the way hood rats
A whole box touched down
Whole case push that
Feel so good bring Ma$e hook back
Thank mami for her constant prayer
On the paper, monster slayer
Bomb on haters
Thou shall not fuck with Georgie
Or he feel a 100 shots from hecklers &amp; 40s
Corliano with it shit its all the approach
Make a call to my folks
Get your passes revoked
I flip the pillows
I flip the memos
I flip guerrero
Young Flip Dinero

I've done been through all this shit
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul
Tell me, you can't tell me shit
I been all up on the go
I benn all up on the go
Chasing shit I want the gold
I been chasing all the chips
I've been plotting, I can't fall
I've been plotting, I can't fall
I've been plotting, I can't fall
Ive done been through all this shit
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul
I've been praying for my soul

Cards on the table nonetheless won't fold
Got directs on hold
Know the checks gon' go
High as fuck in Yuna’s Office
Keep my neck on froze
Get my rec off flows
You can check off those
These some rare Gaultiers
Street dreams, Esco'
Pasta pesto
Mob style flex though
Got my trap line boomin'
Everyday specials
Keep more Q’s comin like my man Fredro
Rolling that petro
Mix it with a tad of this rosin
Let's see how that's go
Struggling to hold my cough
Looking like satchmo
Munchies hit the crabby shack
Back to back blunts goin
Kriss Cross, daddy mac
One light, four grams
Stuffed thats a fatty back
Better savory the flavor
You might never get it back
Uh, fast break this a lay up fam
Want to see a player jam
Hit 'em with the prayer hands

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