| Sometimes I wonder who they pray to and may view as God
|
| Is he who pay you great goose deuce 2k, a new J shoe?
|
| Is it the fame, going platinum or being critically acclaimed
|
| Cigarettes smoke keeping you tame
|
| The drug game, a gucci belt
|
| Shooting trick dice, the cards loosely delt
|
| The coke line that John Belushi smelled
|
| How the coochie felt, the gold chain
|
| The ego that lives in the control brain
|
| Th broken heart with your whole pain
|
| Th bad blood that flows through a cold vein
|
| Is it power pushing powder?
|
| Sweet tooth for sour diesel
|
| Trees roll every hour, diamonds
|
| Cartier frames with the 10 on the eye lens
|
| A fly Benz, the ill street raps setting off sirens
|
| Maybe lives on the 'Gram
|
| Guns that don’t jam, the taste of ham
|
| A scam caught on video cam, damn!
|
| Cause many die for what they was talking out
|
| What do you praise?
|
| What’s over everything?
|
| I’m talkin bout…
|
| G-O-D (Gold, oil and diamonds)
|
| G-O-D (Gram, ounces for drug cells)
|
| G-O-D (Guns, office and dollars)
|
| Yeah, ay!
|
| Tell me what do you believe in, is it (Gold, oil and diamonds)
|
| G-O-D (Gram, ounces for drug cells)
|
| G-O-D (Guns, office and dollars)
|
| Tell me what are you believing in
|
| Tell me what do you believe
|
| What you worshiping
|
| That you put over the air you breathe (Oh!)
|
| Don’t let the things that you see
|
| With these two eyes deceive (See)
|
| Tell me what do you believe
|
| That started to what you perceive (Believe)
|
| What you should have or achieve
|
| Don’t be like me
|
| I almost saw that in a girl (See it)
|
| Couldn’t keep her off of my mind I’d do anything (Gone)
|
| She had my heart and soul but I was blind
|
| I almost saw that in the world (World)
|
| I was loosing sleep, up late not taking care of myself (Sleep)
|
| Creating something for my fans to think and appreciate
|
| I knew this younger from around the way
|
| Down to stay active to get some paper
|
| Would climb a fire escape or hop gaze to pull of a caper
|
| School was never priority nor was he forced to go
|
| Normally, every morning he stuck in court, moving accordingly
|
| Served his mother but paid the rent
|
| He recalling court hopping with ballers
|
| And all the windows on the Escalate were tint
|
| That’s why he just wanted some wheels
|
| Filled with pills, dollar bills, grills, thrills, shawty was skills
|
| The he banged her out of her heals
|
| Neck and wrist, some chills
|
| Make it hot with the mixtapes, speak on all of his deals
|
| Who he clicks with and who he kills
|
| Watching circle the city through titty clubs
|
| To the pretty side of town, back to the gritty part
|
| He can’t outsmart the witty
|
| His enemies hurt the worst
|
| He snitched on himself in a verse
|
| The’ll find him and let it burst
|
| If police don’t get to him first, damn!
|
| 'Cause many die for what they was talking out
|
| What do you praise, what’s over everything?
|
| I’m talkin' bout…
|
| G-O-D (Gold, oil and diamonds)
|
| G-O-D (Gram, ounces for drug cells)
|
| G-O-D (Guns, office and dollars, yeah, ay)
|
| Tell me what do you believe in, is it (Gold, oil and diamonds)
|
| G-O-D (Gram, ounces for drug cells)
|
| G-O-D (Guns, office and dollars)
|
| Tell me what are you believing in
|
| Shit, I remember when all you had to have was good old dick
|
| Now these girls want every motherfucking think
|
| I remember when all you could have was G-O-D; |
| good old dick
|
| They want everything now
|
| G-O-D, shit that’s what a bitch want
|
| Every motherfucking thing
|
| Shawty don’t even know what God is no more
|
| Bitch told me «I want the purse with the boots»
|
| I was like «Bitch, who told you I was getting the purse?»
|
| Yeah man, G-O-D, dawg time done changed
|
| It’s good that we’re talking about God, though
|
| shit done played out
|
| , niggas ain’t wearing Guess no more
|
| True Religion, two for 50
|
| G-O-D ain’t nothing like good old dice game
|
| G-O-D ain’t nothing like a woman with a good old deep throat |