Final Hour
Benicio Salas
Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh
Put me in the ground lay my dirt with pavement
Six feet under seems the only place people make it
I secluded myself in my own world
Feeling like a prisoner in my own cell
Nobody checked in on me, the reality of my life was seen
Ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh, ooh
Once upon a time, I was worried bout likes and fans
Nowadays I'm just worried bout my own lifespan
I thought I was your only fan, I often wonder if you just pretend
Do I succeed? Do I make it? It's up to God now, he said I'll make it
Will I succeed? Will I make it? It's up to God now, he said I'll make it.
