Vídeo musical

EST Gee - PRAY YOU DIE IN SURGERY (Official Audio)
Mira el vídeo musical de {trackName} de {artistName}

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
EST Gee
EST Gee
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
George Stone III
George Stone III
Songwriter
John Carlos Ramirez
John Carlos Ramirez
Composer
Max Jacobson
Max Jacobson
Songwriter
Eeti Eratuli
Eeti Eratuli
Songwriter
Johngotitt
Johngotitt
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Johngotitt
Johngotitt
Recording Engineer
Moz
Moz
Producer
Evertime
Evertime
Producer
DJ Ryno
DJ Ryno
Mixing Engineer
Colin Leonard
Colin Leonard
Mastering Engineer

Letras

Yeah, yeah, yeah, mhm (yeah, moreover, yeah, moreover) They say, "If you ain't cheatin', you ain't tryin'" The answer that I give you every time, you'd rather me lie If that's what it take for a fake smile, I'd rather cry (I'd rather cry) Put my pride to the side (to the side), it got me worn out and tired (tired) I tell the truth, and I'll let you decide if you stayin' down It's some sinners that come with mine (mine) Love me hard, 'til we die Even after this chapter gone, you'll still be mine in the sky (in the sky) If I go before you though, I hope you use me as a guide (me as a guide) Tribulations and trials (tribulations, trials), foreign, half to a nine In these streets, I'm a giant (I'm a giant) Why my peoples have to be slimes? Why my mama had to die? Ain't get a chance to look her youngest grandson in his eye Why Red leave me behind? You the only reason I tried (only reason I tried) Why Quan let niggas wreck his new ride soon as he buy 'em (soon as he bought it, nigga) Lil' Dead took a shot to his head tryna get high (fuck) Leaned his seat back too far, it was only one bullet fired All it took to make us cry, all us shooters need a new drive Ain't no way they gon' survive, we four cars and deep slimes Thank whoever who outside, no innocence in my eyes On God, don't be too hard with your judgment (with your judgment) Then again, in this position, how can you judge us? (How can you judge a nigga?) For wakin' up with grudges, killin' for our loved ones (killin' for my bro) East side Taliban, Riata Drive to Tubman Nobody never loved us, hugged us, or gave us nothin' Deuce-deuce rusty, get up close, then slump him (get up close) It don't mess with my conscience (nah), fuck him, he had it comin' (fuck him, man) Somethin' out of nothin', hundred, you dice his onions The king of the jungle, island, ain't nothin' above it Made men amongst us, don't go against each other Wish you took it serious when I told you, "I love you" Must've thought I was funny, like my issues ain't mean nothin' Instead of uppin' your thumper in memory of your brother (memory of your bro) You'd rather call and ask, "What the budget?" Like it ain't personal Like I ain't see you cry at his funeral, it wasn't hurtin' you? Like when life gave you tough pills to swallow, that we wasn't burpin' you When I done been and not sure, whoever outside after curfew Tell my mama, "I'ma be late to Heaven, 'cause of what I done turned to" (mama) Hurdle after hurdle (hurdle), murder after murder (murder) I be tryin' guard my sister from afar, nobody hurt her (nobody) Kept callin' her phone, said that I needed her, it was urgent She let her boyfriend run off with a quarter-pound of purple And I was just like 20, tryna stack up my first 30 But I forgive you, I don't blame you, you know I'm con game, for certain And they know that we the worst ones, backdoors and closed curtains And I wish I knew back then what them decisions would determine I don't think I'd change nothin' except some deaths that was occurin' And my heart been hurtin', and them Perkies wasn't workin' My son won't do nothin' I did, let alone worser (let alone worser) Never'll be a worker, burglar, or a murderer (or a murderer) Without encouragement, I still came out the thorough list Jammed in my hand, the last time we met in person Red in my head, sayin' every man have a purpose Soon as you done searchin', I'ma be in the dark, lurkin' See an island serpent, nigga, tote yeekies in churches Soon as we load these .30s, y'all gon' load niggas in hearses And Dugg don't get 'em furbished, if you change the shape to Hershey But fuck it if it's workin', no returns on none of these purchases Drench him, he was thirsty, may Lord have mercy Why the boy prayin', even after they buried me? Was I wrong to pray that niggas died in they surgery? (Was I wrong?) Was I wrong to cut him off before I let him murder me? (Was I wrong?) Am I wrong for lettin' it still worry me, currently? (Was I wrong?) Am I wrong for tryna get 'em all 'fore they bury me? Was I wrong to pray that niggas died in they surgery? Was I wrong to cut him off before I let him murder me? Am I wrong for lettin' it still worry me, currently? Am I wrong for tryna get 'em all 'fore they bury me?
Writer(s): Eeti Jedi Justus Eratuli, George A. Stone Iii, John Carlos Ramirez, Max Jacobson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out