at my fueneral

Verse 1 I’m out the jungle where the lions roam, killers and pimps on my phone, Hookers on the block tryna make it home, hustlers flipping stones. I walk with peace like the sandals of Christ, preaching unity through the night, But I still dodge the feds’ flashlight, gang stalkers lurking, yeah, they bite. From politicians I met in the pen, to OGs that’ll sin again, No judgment here, I see their pain, giving ‘em hope, breaking the chain. I’m the bridge from the hood to the suits, spreading love, igniting the truth, But they hate how I rally the youth, dodging traps, I’m staying aloof.i Chorus It’s gon’ be a lot of guns at my funeral, It’s gon’ be a 21-gun salute at my funeral. It’s gon’ be a lotta money-making playas at my funeral, And when I die, don’t cry, pop champagne at my funeral. Verse 2 Had the game locked with the hustlers and thieves, Politicians whispered secrets, now they all believe. I was locked up, broke bread with snakes, now they smile in the daylight, still fake. Dodging charges, duckin’ traps, I’m a ghost to the system, they can’t track my map. Preaching peace, but I roll with hitters, Talk slick, you’ll see they quick on the triggers. But I tell ‘em hold steady, we rise as one, No more bloodshed under the sun. Jesus walked with sinners, so I do the same, No judgment here, I’m just changing the game. From the block to the top, I’m connecting the dots, Politicians to hustlers, they all in my plot. Chorus It’s gon’ be a lot of guns at my funeral, It’s gon’ be a 21-gun salute at my funeral. It’s gon’ be a lotta money-making playas at my funeral, And when I die, don’t cry, pop champagne at my funeral. Bridge Pop the bottles, light the blunts, let the vibes be pure, Celebrate my life, let my mission endure. No tears for me, just cheers for me, Unity through the chaos, let the world see. Outro They’ll talk about the hustler who moved with grace, Who stood with the killers but brought light to their space. At my funeral, the streets’ll align, Cause I made peace my hustle, my grind was divine. Chorus (Fade Out) It’s gon’ be a lot of guns at my funeral, It’s gon’ be a 21-gun salute at my funeral. It’s gon’ be a lotta money-making playas at my funeral, And when I die, don’t cry, pop champagne at my funeral.