Let me take you back to them days
Back when all I had to do was play
Back when I actually used to pray
Used the ask the Lord
To take my momma pain away
Feeling like a slave
Trapped within a maze
Living in a cage
In a ghetto haze
F*ck you know about pain
Have you ever witnessed lame niggas
Shooting at your frame
And how do I explain
Witnessing my mother
Take bullet to the chest
I was so young
All I did
Was turn into a nervous wreck
Couldn't even walk my streets
Without niggas claiming sets
Asking me what you rep
Nothing nigga
Lay that shit to rest
I don't need a bunch of people around me
Just so I can feel my best
Nigga I rather hug this vest
And the Smith Wesson
For protection of the chest
Motherf*ckers can't contest
Homie I'm the proctor
This a test
Matter of fact
This a board
And we playing chess
Bobby Fisher
With The check
Ooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
Ooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
But wait a minute
Y'all thought my momma was finished
Hell nah
There really must be something
Up above
Cuz my mom took them slugs
Like a f*cking thug
Then proceeded to give me a hug
Damn
She was strong like that
Held the family on her back
She was raw like that
I'm just wondering why the cancer had to kill her in fact
I still wonder how I managed to keep my soul intact
And now my heart is like a f*cking artifact
Actually matter of fact
It cracked
During the heart attack
That turned it black
That's why I exhibit so much rage
Whenever I go to f*cking rap
Otherwise I'ma snap
End up
Busting gats
At any buster
Talking smack
I pack the Mac
Inside the Ac
But just to avoid all of that
I rather lay my heart in tracks
I ain't trying hand out autographs
So the fame and the drama
Y'all keep all of that
I just need my stacks
Nothing short of a hundred racks
Oooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
Oooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
This go out to you momma
I give thanks for your everlasting grace
Just know your boy is on his way
I bow my head and pray
That we'll meet again one day
Sincerely Yahweh
The Vent Video (MV)
Yahweh the Pharaoh - The Vent Lyrics
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Let me take you back to them days
Back when all I had to do was play
Back when I actually used to pray
Used the ask the Lord
To take my momma pain away
Feeling like a slave
Trapped within a maze
Living in a cage
In a ghetto haze
F*ck you know about pain
Have you ever witnessed lame niggas
Shooting at your frame
And how do I explain
Witnessing my mother
Take bullet to the chest
I was so young
All I did
Was turn into a nervous wreck
Couldn't even walk my streets
Without niggas claiming sets
Asking me what you rep
Nothing nigga
Lay that shit to rest
I don't need a bunch of people around me
Just so I can feel my best
Nigga I rather hug this vest
And the Smith Wesson
For protection of the chest
Motherf*ckers can't contest
Homie I'm the proctor
This a test
Matter of fact
This a board
And we playing chess
Bobby Fisher
With The check
Ooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
Ooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
But wait a minute
Y'all thought my momma was finished
Hell nah
There really must be something
Up above
Cuz my mom took them slugs
Like a f*cking thug
Then proceeded to give me a hug
Damn
She was strong like that
Held the family on her back
She was raw like that
I'm just wondering why the cancer had to kill her in fact
I still wonder how I managed to keep my soul intact
And now my heart is like a f*cking artifact
Actually matter of fact
It cracked
During the heart attack
That turned it black
That's why I exhibit so much rage
Whenever I go to f*cking rap
Otherwise I'ma snap
End up
Busting gats
At any buster
Talking smack
I pack the Mac
Inside the Ac
But just to avoid all of that
I rather lay my heart in tracks
I ain't trying hand out autographs
So the fame and the drama
Y'all keep all of that
I just need my stacks
Nothing short of a hundred racks
Oooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
Oooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
This go out to you momma
I give thanks for your everlasting grace
Just know your boy is on his way
I bow my head and pray
That we'll meet again one day
Sincerely Yahweh
Back when all I had to do was play
Back when I actually used to pray
Used the ask the Lord
To take my momma pain away
Feeling like a slave
Trapped within a maze
Living in a cage
In a ghetto haze
F*ck you know about pain
Have you ever witnessed lame niggas
Shooting at your frame
And how do I explain
Witnessing my mother
Take bullet to the chest
I was so young
All I did
Was turn into a nervous wreck
Couldn't even walk my streets
Without niggas claiming sets
Asking me what you rep
Nothing nigga
Lay that shit to rest
I don't need a bunch of people around me
Just so I can feel my best
Nigga I rather hug this vest
And the Smith Wesson
For protection of the chest
Motherf*ckers can't contest
Homie I'm the proctor
This a test
Matter of fact
This a board
And we playing chess
Bobby Fisher
With The check
Ooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
Ooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
But wait a minute
Y'all thought my momma was finished
Hell nah
There really must be something
Up above
Cuz my mom took them slugs
Like a f*cking thug
Then proceeded to give me a hug
Damn
She was strong like that
Held the family on her back
She was raw like that
I'm just wondering why the cancer had to kill her in fact
I still wonder how I managed to keep my soul intact
And now my heart is like a f*cking artifact
Actually matter of fact
It cracked
During the heart attack
That turned it black
That's why I exhibit so much rage
Whenever I go to f*cking rap
Otherwise I'ma snap
End up
Busting gats
At any buster
Talking smack
I pack the Mac
Inside the Ac
But just to avoid all of that
I rather lay my heart in tracks
I ain't trying hand out autographs
So the fame and the drama
Y'all keep all of that
I just need my stacks
Nothing short of a hundred racks
Oooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
Oooh
I'm feeling low
I'm smoking dro
Losing control
This go out to you momma
I give thanks for your everlasting grace
Just know your boy is on his way
I bow my head and pray
That we'll meet again one day
Sincerely Yahweh
Writer: Jesus Mesa
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid