[Intro: Tory Lanez]
\nGod, I just, I just need you to guide me
\nIt's so much going on in my life and I
\nI know you wanna bring me through it, I know you got me
\nBut it's hard right now and I need you
\nI need you now more than I ever needed you, God, please
\n
\n[Verse: Tory Lanez]
\nLook, one way trip to prison, L.A. County into the mountains
\nBunch of niggas on the bus that never got the counselin'
\nInstead they gangbanged, they sold dope and broke in houses
\nIt started with the parents livin' poor with broken spouses
\nFeed me sack lunches in the plastic pouches
\nGot me feelin' fucked over, like the castin' couches
\nDirty face, dirty hair up in my mugshot
\nTower cop all on thе speaker makin' brash announcemеnts
\nFadin' inside of the cell
\nSatan keep on tryna bring the flagrantest fires from hell
\nBut Lord, Your water on me far and as wide as a well
\nIt's gettin' dark, I wanna cry, but gotta inspire as well, yeah
\nOld friends switchin' on me
\nNew York Times pissin' on me
\nTMZ here tellin' lies on television on me
\nMy opps workin' overtime to put this image on me
\nBut God is finna push the line, like it's a scrimmage on me
\nMom a soldier and you gave birth to a warrior
\nAin't a secret like it's knocked off Victoria
\nSeven hours been in shackles sittin' in the court tanks
\nWe ain't ate in hours 'cause the police ignorin' us
\nCounty jail cryin' real tears to Iggy Azalea
\nI know you put up with some shit that just wasn't familiar
\nI loved your ear and loved your heart, though you wasn't Amelia
\nThey lyin', tryin' to get me fucked, but I wasn't Cecilia
\nYoungDaveBangin' on the beat, he in the ER right now producin' this in critical condition
\nI'm recordin' up in state prison
\nIt's fair to say we Black and beat the odds of both statistics
\nBoth of us supposed to be either dead or in jail
\nBut he been close to death, and I'm in jail and still prevailed
\nGod willin', this go number one from in the cell
\nIt won't be long before the release date's is in the mail
\nYeah, uh
\nTears fallin' on my phone calls, everything was all wrong
\nCounty jail, orange paint, the image that I'm Don Juan
\nSentence day I'm thinkin' any minute I could be long gone
\nIt's wintertime, I'm in the cell
\nA nigga freezin' in a pair of "Men's Central Jail" Long John's
\nEnemies celebratin' Christmas Day
\nI'm layin' in the cell without my son, like fuck are y'all on?
\nThose nights were treacherous
\nBuy a gram of heroin and use it as leverage
\nBlack clouds floatin' over me, I need severance
\nNiggas overdosin' off Suboxone and medicines
\nYeah, God save me, I'm repenting for my early sins
\nMy only goal is see it clear like I'm a blurry lens
\nYou niggas softer than some furry pants
\nAnd off the walk out, I need thirty M's
\n
\n[Bridge: Paul McKay & Tory Lanez]
\nGuide me through the storm
\nGuide me through the storm
\nFeelin' something that's raining down, that's raining down
\nGuide me through the storm (Ooh)
\nGuide me through the storm
\nYou know I need your saving
\nGuide me through the storm
\nOh, I need your saving now
\nGuide me through the storm
\nOh guide, oh, guide me
\nGuide me through the storm
\nIt's all coming down, you got me layin' down
\nGuide me through the storm
\nYou know all about it and You've been right there
\nGuide me through the storm
\nGuide me through the storm
\n
\n[Interlude: Sonstar]
\nDaystar, my beautiful son
\nAs your father, I was distraught the day when they took my innocent son to prison
\nAnd for two weeks straight, every day that the sun had risen
\nI felt like I had a twenty-pound weight sitting on my chest
\nStill I knew that God had allowed his test
\nThat it was not just about you, but also about the others
\nThe many other incarcerated sisters and brothers
\nThat's when I gave you to God, knowing that He would keep you covered
\nAnd in the realm of the Spirit, that's where I hovered like an eagle in flight
\nA samurai proud warrior against the witches and warlocks
\nPulling down strong holes of witchcraft
\nDivination, necromancy, familiar spirits
\nClairvoyant projections, psychic phenomena
\nThat war to keep the souls of men and women created in God's own image in bondage
\nAnd away from their families in a bid to create the next generation of pissed off children angry at a system
\nJust so Satan could keep the hungry prison-industrial complex fed
\nTo the tune of eighty-two thousand dollars per head
\nWhile they barter and trade the souls of people in the New York Stock Exchange in exchange for money and wealth
\nNow there's a crack in their building and it's beginning to crumble
\n'Cause God alone, only God can keep these wicked men humble
\nDear Heavenly Father, as You have guided Daystar
\nWe pray that You would now guide the many nameless faces of men and women in prison, Lord God, sovereign God
\nYou are the one, the only one that has guided us
\nNow also guide them, guide them through the storm, Father
\nGuide them through the storm in the name of Jesus
\n
\n[Outro: Paul McKay]
\nSaid I need you more than ever
\nSaid I need
\nGuide me (Ooh), guide me
\nCome on and guide me
\nCome guide me (Ooh)
\nOh, guide me now
\nGuide me (Oh)
\nCome on and guide me now (Oh)
\nGuide me (Oh)
\nGuide me now
\nGuide me (Oh, oh)
\nGuide me now\n\n
