[Chorus:]
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
[Verse 1:]
Some say I'm paranoid, I say I'm careful how I choose my friends,
I been to ICU once, I ain't goin' again,
First Z got murked, then Roy got murked,
And homie still in the hood, why he ain't gettin' hurt?
I smell something fishy, man, it might be a rat,
Damn, niggas switchin' sides on niggas just like that,
You know me, I stay with a bitch on her knees
And give guns away in the hood like it's government cheese.
Spray off Suzuki's, eleven hundred cc's,
No plate on the back, straight squeezin' the MAC,
In the hood they identify niggas by their cars
So I switch up whips to stay off the radar.
I ain't gotta be around to make shit hot,
I'll send Yayo to dump thirty shots on your block,
You should spray that TEC, nigga, if I say get it done,
I'll make you wet niggas if you 'round me son.
[Chorus:]
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
[Verse 2:]
When I come through the hood, I don't stop to rap to niggas,
Get close enough to smack, then I'll clap ya, nigga,
Pop tried to front so I waved the chrome on his ass,
Point blank range I spazzed, pulled a bone on his ass.
Two weeks later niggas came through with MAC's to lay me down,
They sprayed, I played dead and got the fuck off the ground,
Out the blue I get a phone call, "Fifty, what up?"
"They sent a bitch at me, I sent the bitch back cut up!"
I don't play that pussy shit, I done told you, boy,
Front on me you gon' meet one of my soldiers, boy.
Cousin Twin shot up his mamma crib, now he in jail,
Trippin' off flicks of Blu Cantrell, pussy, and Black Tail.
Pop mama moved, but she don't talk to him no more,
The shells from Twin's fo-fo blew the hinge off her door,
Without that check every month how she goin' to pay for the crib?
Man, social service finna come and take them kids.
[Chorus:]
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
[Verse 3:]
‘Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.'
In AA they make you say that,
That's the prayer they burn in your head when you a CASAT.
Man, I might talk to you while we up in them pens,
But when we come home that don't mean we goin' to fuckin' be friends,
The shells pass your head close enough to hear them whistle,
Thank God they missed you, and go grab your pistol.
In the hood niggas runnin' 'round actin' crazy,
Buyin' little Air Jordans for maybe babies,
See it might be his and it might be yours,
Because them broads in the projects is straight up whores.
Man, it don't take much for you to get in them drawers,
You can have them on their back or on all fours,
You ain't got to tell me, you feelin' this shit,
Because I hear what I'm sayin', I know I'm killin' this shit.
[Chorus:]
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
I gotta make it to heaven for goin' through hell,
I gotta make it to heaven, I gotta make it to heaven!
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