Lyrics:
crazy
Glock19 this bitch is damn
Should have brought the Fn
I just caught him with his friend
Mob shit get the racks
Bet dem boys talk get up witchu
Bet
have something I'd like you to see
Fly with me
Fly with me
I don't really have a broom
I have a fife
You'd have to ask my wife
About the fife
I don't
come kick it with Styles P
The truth when it comes to this rap shit
We ain't come here for the chit chat
Kill all the yappin', let's, let's, let's
valuable
And they not valuable because they got a whole lot of money
Or 'cause somebody, think they sexy
But they valuable 'cause they been created by God
hard (uh-huh)
Trust in God 'cause you's about to catch a bullet scar (yeah)
I give a fuck where you from, who you be with
Keep this a secret, right by
God knows I know no better
Easy to say that I can talk
I can talk
You know more than you think you know
Your DNA is pulsed by stars
Reveal
about a God damn Grammy?
Yo, Flav, I give a fuck about a God damn Grammy
But them motherfuckin hoes won't hand me one
At least you was invited by
Talk Have a little Talk with God
I need that feeling Have a little Talk Have a little Talk with God
We all need salvation Have a little Talk Have
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
your bluff
And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)
Yo, don't scandalize mine
I spent too much time
Straight talk with the catch to etch my line
(Devil's claw) and his demand
Don't egress from GOD's plans
Keep holdin' on, bear with me
Give all stress to His hands
Keep holdin' on, bear with me
I'm sick
how I 8 things?
Haaaa
I ain't even gon keep going with that
Whoa
Whoa
Bullshit
Let's talk about
Aye
All your bullshit
Let's talk about
Let's talk about
how I live
In the southside, I'm thuggin'
With my cow hide
I'm fresh when I come outside
You talk shit get hog tied
God know I know these niggas
how I live
In the southside, I'm thuggin'
With my cow hide
I'm fresh when I come outside
You talk shit get hog tied
God know I know these niggas
If you roll with G-O-D, go and throw it up, hold it up
Sip the holy water, we gon' pour it up
Getting real high with the spirit, we ain't rollin' up
don't give a fuck that he paid
I don't give a fuck how much he weigh
Niggas die every fuckin' day
Broad daylight, hit a nigga with the K
By myself, I'm
alive today
He'd be incarcerated
With the rest of the brothers
While uh
The devil would have a great apartment
On the upper east side
Be a guest
cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death 'pon me
Every night I talk to God but he don't say nothing back
I know he
cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death 'pon me
Every night I talk to God but he don't say nothing back
I know he
mercy on my soul
Somewhere my heart turned cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death 'pon me
Every night I talk to God but
y'all
My crew'll break each shoulder
I'm that nigga they talk about on street soldiers
Cause my street soldiers are heat holders and weed rollers
We keep
on God, though (yeah)
Talk slick, move quick like a macho (Uh)
Where have you, huh? Back with my eyes closed
(What? Wow)
You can't fuck with me, yeah, I
other guys
She was really truly sorry, but if I make some money then maybe she could be with me
She'd talk to her father who owned a boat on the water
So
not fun, yo my brother got a son
God father of his child, now I got to worry now
Send him off to school with toast
Teach him how to burn they clothes
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