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I wake up with the voice in my head that says Godâs watching,
Studied scriptures and even skimmed thru Allahâs doctrine,
Minutes later Iâm thinking of killing haters, and ways to bring in some paper so having faith is a hard option,
My moms told me that praying will get me far in life,
And anytime it gets hectic just give ya heart to Christ,
But I donât know if the Lord can help my bars get tight
Or make the fans think Iâm a star thatâs nice, Iâm an artist writing
Real shit, real feelings, angels in my ear
Like, âDo better, be better, pick a new career,
Maybe teacher, preacher, counselor, physicist, engineer,
Someone doing things with meaning for people,â
But then I hear
These demons with the horns like, âRap, rhyme, spit it,
Do a song wit a dance, talk about the slutty bitches,
Put half naked chicks in the video, pour liquor
on they asses,
Throw some stacks at the camera and yell, ânigga, nigga, nigga,
Iâm ill, Iâm getting it, fuck school,â
sell drugs, get a buzz, rock some shiny fake jewels,â
But the angels come back screaming, âMake smart cool!
Put depth in ya music, reach the youngest, dumbest fools,
While you kill it over beats and they sleeping,
You break the rules
and have âem thinking while they smoking and drinking and gripping tools,â
â¦And I choose the darkside, sorta like Tre and Doughboy in that car ride
And then I shout âDough let me out!â
Knowing that this is wrong
Iâm conflicted in my life and in my songs.
I got these Angels on my shoulder,
But these demons keep on talking and theyâre trying to win me over
Got me thinking bank robbery, Obama I need change,
I envision car jacking this old man in the Range,
Angels: âWork hard at your craft and deal with the pain,
Everyday ainât always sunny, you wanna just make it rain.â
Demons: âSha look at how long you been in the game,
Ainât nobody trying to hear what you yapping, you sound lame,
You ainât shooting, you ainât selling, you ainât balling youâre the same,
Dude rapping âbout your raps in your raps, then you complain.â
Damnâ¦
But the angels start to whisper,
âWife up a queen,â then the demons tell me dis her,
The soldiers with the wings say lift brothers and sisters,
But the creatures with the tails say get money consistent,
Angels say, âGodâs son showed you the path,â
Demons say, âThe savior was hated until he passed,
Sha you was born broke, parents called you accident,
Jesus got gold and a holiday named after him,â
Angels want me Christian or Catholic with wife and kids,
Demons want me flipping bricks, getting clapped, or doing a bid
Angels: âForget the whores and the groupies, the music biz.â
Demons: âThinking small, youâll never be Pac or Big stupid.â