Gotta Make it to Heaven

[Produced by Megahertz] [Hook] I gotta make it to Heaven for going through Hell I gotta make it to Heaven, I gotta make it to Heaven I gotta make it to Heaven for going through Hell I gotta make it to Heaven, I hope I 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 going again First Z got murked then Roy got murked And homie still in the hood, why he ain't getting hurt? I smell something fishy, man, it might be a rat Damn, niggas switching 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 squeezing 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 30 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 [Hook] [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 Tripping off flicks of Blu Cantrell, pussy, and black tail Pop mama moved, but she don't talk to him no mo' The shells from Twin's fo'-fo' blew the hinge off her do' Without that check every month how she going to pay for the crib? Man, social service finna come and take them kids [Hook] [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 case act Man, I might talk to you while we up in them pens But when we come home that don't mean we going to fucking 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 running 'round acting crazy Buying 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 feeling this shit Because I hear what I'm saying, I know I'm killing this shit [Hook]