Amen

(Album: Lil Weezy Ana, Vol.1 - 2006)

Raj Smoove (Yeah)
The greatest DJ in the world (Yeah)
Ooh boy (Yes!)
We're about to say a prayer for all our loved ones
I'mma call this one "Real Rap"
Anybody you lost, put 'em on your heart
Because this rap is real, you know?
Light it up for 'em
I hope you ain't too tired to cry
And I hope you know
You ain't never too alive to die, heh

Listen, I grew up where the people call them people on us
Think we slanging, but we just got beepers on us
Grinding all day like we got sleep insomnia
Living like the videos, write a treatment on us
Stuck in the hood like they poured cement on us
Ghetto bird still shitting on us
Government still quitting on us
Lost a few homies, and the grief's still sitting on us
So we got their names written on us
White folks still spitting on us
And them bitch-ass police K9's teeth still gritting on us
But we smoke, ashes still getting on us
Older bitches still hitting on us
I remember well, Beezy rolled a L
Beezy ain't here — Where's Beezy at? Beezy got killed
And that was my nigga, I go way back with my nigga
But I know that's how it happened, my nigga
Shit is much deeper than this rapping, my nigga
But now they're all rapping, my niggas
So now I must make it happen
So I'mma play the captain, sailboat flapping, my nigga
No fingers, I'm snapping
Happy for my nigga Lil Tagus
'Cause even though we couldn't, the Lord saved him
Last time we seen him was when Katrina hated
Shit, found his body like a month later
Rest in peace, boy
He was a East boy, and so was Wessy West
He was a good nigga, so I know he blessed
And his daughter is a princess
This shit is harder than a bench press
But I'mma keep going
And I swear I got a lump in my throat
But I'mma keep on pumping the flow
So if I cry, don't stop the beat
I feel like my heart just stopped a bit
My nigga Lil Derek was quick to cop a ki
Either that or load the gat and go pop a G
And because of that he's just a name in a rhyme of mine
I pray his family and his momma's fine
So much shit just sit on this mind of mine
I think about it all the time, I drink about it all the time
I smoke back to back
'Cause if my thoughts got to me, I'd be in this rap
Or I'd be in the can
Thank God I had dreams of being the man
Yeah, and fuck a man with a badge
'Cause he ain't shit to a man on the edge
The 5-0 killed Naudy, good boy dead
Man, you would've thought they killed cornbread
Shot him up, face down on the lawn
Not to mention, with his handcuffs on
Not to mention, they had plain-clothes on
And the complaint goes on
But nobody do nothing about it
The jail house and the morgue is too fucking crowded
And hate is at an all-time high
Everybody gotta hate, it's like a fucking iPod
Shit, and they tried to burn my Phantom up
But I got my gun license, haha, I got my hammers up
I'm ready to shoot like a camera—
Stay still motherfucker
I'mma have to write my will this summer
'Cause if they don't kill me, I'mma kill this summer
Yeah, and you can put that on my late Father
Or my late Grandmother, Miss Mercedes Carter
Or my Grandfather, Larry Balsock
The old man hustled 'til his heart stopped
And all I know of my real Pops is that he had money
No bank account, that brown-paper-bag money
Yeah, he might hit me off with a little brag money
But the nigga still wouldn't be a dad for me
But look how I turned out, I hope he glad for me
But that's why when I see him I acts mad funny
'Cause he's a joke to me
Don't message, don't call, don't talk to me
It's just me and my mama, how it's supposed to be
And I make sure she paid like she wrote for me
And I know she gets all hope from me
And I don't ever wanna see her mope for me
Hopefully, but, truthfully
There is a day that's due for me
But we gon' pray that it's as far as the future sees
You are listening to the future Weezy F. Baby
Amen

Rest in peace to my cousin Kim Carbo
My nigga Vick
Rest in peace little Harold
Shout-out to my nigga Steveland! Rest in peace, pimp
Quiet Storm in the building