Lyrics Trouble – Help Me
Text:
Trouble:
Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
Help me with pationts, and taking my time
Lord help me shake these devils off inside
I’m always plotten, tryna find my way
Just to get me payed, and have my family straight
Most of those ways, goin end up with graves
Or beef, cause he see my face
Young niggas wilden in these streets these days
Tell ‘m that, I guess I’m part of the reason though
I be bustin, I wasn’t tryna have anybody killed
Never be able to tell, what my niggas might do when it comes to me
Why I create so many pussy niggas
Something I’m bothered by everyday I live
They the ones that perceived it’s real
I can’t imagine what I’ve done to my liver
Drinkin liquor, in runnin round the streets since I was ten
Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
Help me with pationts, and taking my time
Lord help me shake these devils off inside
Whys murder always on my mind
Trae Tha Truth:
Lord, help me stash and throw away this pistol
If they run up on me, Imma abuse this clip till I empty this pistol
If you run up on me, it might be better to stay safe, and say it’s over, fool
Father forgive me, see that caskit, Imma close it
I been drinkin, thinkin of homies in heaven too many nights
Hard to stay here, while the angels takin too many flights
And though I fight, I feel like it’s only in myself
They took my brother, took my niggas
Took my sisters, feel like I lost it all
Got a nigga feelin like I got nobody to call
Real shit, feel like a nigga will fall
Somebody better get this motherfuckin thing off my back
Before I use it, come inside, and lay him flat
Trouble:
Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
Help me with pationts, and taking my time
Lord help me shake these devils off inside
Whys murder always on my mind
Alley Boy:
The way I’m prayen for forgivnis, prayin for whisdem
Survived plenty wars, bullits bairly missed them
I’m prayin by my loanly
Half of these preechers phoney
Trouble, you ain’t ever had a friend, you know I’m with you, homie
They took him to the grave
He played the crime way
A free slave, caged up a thousand days
All of my niggas facing charges, they was home robbed
They can’t phone they lawyers, reason they was robbed
Prayin till my knees hurt
Lord, know I need help
Smokin weed constantly, numb the pain I felt
Whole life in the streets, without it, where would I be
What would I be without your blessings, you keep saving me
Trouble:
Lord help me wash away this pain of mine
Help me with pationts, and taking my time
Lord help me shake these devils off inside
Whys murder always on my mind
Album
Trouble – The Return Of December 17th
