The Resurrection Lyrics

Let’s bow our head, both hands fuck it

Lord bless our food
Bless our mood
Bless our homies
Bless our girl
Bless our thoughts
Bless our ad-libs

Lord bless our food
Bless our mood
Bless our homies
Bless our girl
Bless our thoughts
Bless our ad-libs

This is non fiction
This is non fiction

I’m tired of fucking these fucking these ungrateful girls
Tried to go big on me told her don’t do that
Feelings of betrayal let my lungs collapse
Woke up this morning bitch I’m done with rap
I need something realer, this ain’t no run of the mill
This Aaliyah’s "One in a Million" still y’all boys don’t feel him
I've set examples for the children
Can't lie I do enjoy me a pilsner
Standout like Jameis Winston around these Dilfords
The hood Quintin Tarantino jacket real fur
Told her don’t suck me off we gotta chill first
J Skillz say he coming after Spielberg
I rather live in St. Kitts than see trial
Hit Pacific Dining Car then blow a cloud
This AMG is what we floating in now
Time heals open wounds reconcile

Lord bless our food
Bless our mood
Bless our homies
Bless our girl
Bless our thoughts
Bless our ad-libs

This is non fiction
This is non fiction

We need a SOS
I think we need a SOS
For all this lack of love
Running to Vegas let’s peace up
Bump into Karrueche while eating brunch
We use to stay at the Flamingo can’t even front
Told myself I gotta be rich at least once
So ask Gavin McNeal he know what’s up
As long as we got each other we got enough
Signing docs for the house gave me paper cuts
I wish that for all my live and my dead niggas
I can feel your soul bumping through the system
We used to drink and drive out to riverside
Living dangerous as fuck
These stipends ain’t enough you give me 15 bucks
What I'm 'posed to do with that
I’m getting skinny but I’m counting racks
Health is wealth what’s going on she ain’t calling back
I done really fucked up this time
Look like I done really fucked up this time
I’m on from January 'til December
Alkaline water and tequila in my liver
Smokers Club papers with the kush in the center
Never no cocaine in it
I can’t hang with it
I might jump, I already wore my Armani suit too much

Lord bless our food
Bless our mood
Bless our homies
Bless our girl
Bless our thoughts
Bless our ad-libs

This is non fiction
This is non fiction

Give credit where it’s due at
Give credit where it’s due at
SOS, I think we need a SOS
Yeah, yeah