Forsaken (Radio Version)
[Intro: Sample from [?] and Breez Evahflowin’]
[Sample from [?]]
My God, my God. Why hast thou forsaken me?
[Breez Evahflowin’]
Real life for your eyes. Sound Plus Rhythm styles. Breez Evahflowin’. No doubt. What you speaking?
[Hook: Sample from [?]] (x4)
My God, my God. Why hast thou forsaken me?
[Verse 1: Breez Evahflowin’]
“To hell with the preacher man”
That’s what the one said who run dead streets. The plan
Defeat the mind—the purpose of a gram
Sonny seen a pound plus various visions of lust
Made a man into dust over small fusses
What he trustses ain’t a damn thing
Except the skills of the hand swing
My man king, ghetto felon
Swelling the one-man armed rebellion
Haunted by the blue ghost—two close calls
Now his balls bigger than boulders
Took a jig to the throat, a slug to the shoulder
The older, the colder he gets
The road to regrets is bypassed by making fast work of witnesses
The lips is sealed in the battlefield
My man slither like a eel
A real live shocker. What the deal?
Chill that Malik poppa
You got him strung out improper
Malik made it out, studied how to play capper
Tried to let you know
Yo, my man seen his daddy. So mad, he lost control
Yeah, you playing for a punk but you could fail to understand
And be amazing how them punks we get bowled over, fam
You was all up in your plan, laid back
Your man seen it coming, didn’t say jack
A payback for scheming—now you screaming
Seen the real demon when you caught lead
Vital sign code red. Opened up you lip and said
[Hook: Sample from [?]] (x4)
My God, my God. Why hast thou forsaken me?
[Verse 2: Breez Evahflowin’]
Yo, some sacrifices ain’t worth it
Shorty playing love on the surface
Her purpose is petty, the pretty battery ever ready
Going steady for confetti papers
She be your personal rump-shaker service
1-900-GETNERVOUS
Hurt is the urban type
Getting hype when you turn to lights
Guaranteed satisfaction
Shorty seen more action than Saigon
Shake unforgettable with incredible edible nylon
Flipping off the wall like Krylon
Style on point, precision
Mamacita on the mission
Fishing in your financial status
Deleting data from your data banks
Say the thanks, watch your wallet walk the plank
Sank to the bottom
She got him locked down for dollars
Whether be hustler, scholar, bad boys, or ballers
The call is free. To get one, you gotta see three figures
Or chicky ain’t trying to see
Bigger men. Tried to capture, even slap her several times
But in these rebel times, these devil dimes roll with several nines
Wine and roses. A man proposes
Suppose his heart was in the right
But you ain’t tried to see the light
Your speed is like past presence
Your tainted essence made in messes of your mind
From Uncle Ty up in your dressers
From adolescence. Now aggression is dealt
From the pain that remains after pleasure is felt
But what you smelt smoking
Went out for delf—now your health broken
Soaking pillows, willow-weeping
No more time keeping
You keeping time while your life leaking
Waiting for long sleeping. So now you speaking
[Hook: Sample from [?]] (x5)
My God, my God. Why hast thou forsaken me?