Z-Ro, Wood (Band) , Tha Chill - Wonder if I'm Blessed lyrics

Dear Lord, this is your boy Bam
Can't nobody do what you done done God
One of the ghetto graduates
Three men in here
Ready to deliver, number one
All they internal sins
On pen and paper, and right now
They fin to let
You know how it is, it's a chance
God bless us allah, you number one

Well it's my return
And I've been gone for too long
I'm in a different state of mind
Yeah Wood is in the zone
Demonstrate the arsenal head shots
With red dots and wet spots
Soaking shirts up
Till my churf up with red spots
Bag of leaves and the chronic trees
South Texas ki's and let you weed
They jacking leaves for cake and cheese
I make the G's and you may believe
Shouldn't wish up on your clover leaf
Wishing up on a star
Losing my memory behind a bar
All I want is drank out the jar
Locked in the Penn talking
Back to the guards, shooting the kite
Taking the back of my broad
Pulling a candy Lac in my yard
Strapped up talking back to you boys
I'm armed alarmed and informed
And I'm hollin' on my own
For the rings to the pawn
Gotta pass up the coin
To the Tre where I was born
Wood, and I'm hot as a fire place
In a eskimo's house
You get the, you get the
You get the splinters in your mouth
Quinbrown my hardest hood close to downtown
Round for round and pound for pound
I'm making you bitch boys bow down

I've been waiting patiently
I wonder if a nigga's really blessed
Cause I'm still here
Niggas steady, hating me
I wonder if a nigga's really blessed
Cause I'm still here
I've been waiting patiently
I wonder if a nigga's really blessed
Cause I'm still here why does he forsaken me
I wonder if a nigga's really blessed

It ain't my fault, my Lord please
Forgive me for static
But, I had that line in my TV
And being broke and don't have it
I'm playing a deadly game of chess
Over rugers and vests
Ride on hollow tips when I'm spitting
Still into the flesh
Thug wounds got me paranoid
Tattooed and scarred
Running away from the fraud
Hiding behind tint in the car
I'm blowing sweet after sweet
Real niggas in her feel me
Saran wrapping the duffle bag
Swang bitching to bust me
I'm bout my paper, my Lord please
Don't let it be in vein
I got a son two little girls
And they got hustle in they vein
Kamikaze with an infrared, scoping my mind
Puffing on lime swinging on 20's
Bumping low on the ground
Satellite shaking bitches
Putting cameras on cords
Puff the yay and pass the weed
Cause everybody love marijuana
I'mma slap for you nigga
Two hundred fifty on concrete
Moved patiently and silently
You dialing nigga

I watch my life pass me by
In the blink of an eye another stick of fry
Cause the regular weed no longer get me high
Popping extasy like Aspirin
Come down a nigga block blasting
You don't wanna meet that reaper nigga
You hoes come off my cash man
I'm trying to keep it holy
This thug life keep calling my name
Every now and then I take a loss
But see that's all in the game
Look at what you did to me
I'm free but I'm still living on lie
Everyday it's one mo' murder
One mo' partna that drop
I wonder if the sun shines on the other side
Cause, I bet my mama ain't seen a rainy day
Since she died
I'm a living legend still in the flesh
Automatic assault rifle and a vest
Cause my partnas try to put me to rest
So I treat my pistol like a queen
As I fiend for the green
And I never put anyone before my bitch
I'm jealous as I service my beam
A murdering team
Forgive me for my sins O'Lord
But, I'm trying to make it
Cause this ghetto life is so hard