Lyrics:
and the only begotten son
My Lord
For he so feared the word
He left his only begotten son
To shed his blood
Show that pain is love
But I won't cry
this since my younger days
Only 16 but my pockets never underage
So let's get paid, cause I stay ready for it, please
And you is crazy if you think
Ey, this is special what's happenin' to all my
All my soldiers over there in Iraq
Everybody right here
What you need to do is be thankful for
like diddy
I Never worry bout a bitch
I get em by the plenty
I'm just chillin
Ridin round the city
Ima be a hustla
Till the day they come and kill me
trying to lend a hand
But right now I don't need no help
I'm looking for my inner wealth
Right now I'm trying to center self
Shine myself
All by myself
So
Ey, this is special what's happenin' to all my
All my soldiers over there in Iraq
Everybody right here
What you need to do is be thankful for
I got a head, but ain't no screws in it
(money, money, money by the ton)
I got a head, but ain't no screws in it
(money, money, money by the ton)
have no problem wit' Jay
I do have problems wit' people who twist the words that I say
My city blame me for people who I never beefed wit' at all
They
say that the jackers kickin yo hoe
please give me the reason I'm fiendin to know
why cheese missin in my flow
givin low Z's for the four when
than priest cocks
In 3 little boys named Troy, Travis, and Levi
They want me to stop
They be screamin' at me like teapots
But nigga it's my job
To bring
the camp my Lord
Only real preachers I knew was my Dad and Pastor Troy
I'm passing boys, the past I can't look back no more
Niggas depending on they hooks
the pain I see, make it stop, make it leave
Georgia Boys, Real McCoy, Miracle with Pastor Troy
Ain't no Tonka toy, nuclear, we'll destroy
Ain't no
outchea tricking on hoes they can’t afford
Still I beg to differ when they switch up cause I shoul ignore
Oh Lord, Pastor Troy, Let’s see who really want
outside when you heard my brother cry for help
Held him like a newborn baby and made him feel
Like everything was alright
And a fight he tried to put up,
to pour sand sand for your garri oh
Tekiero pamparillo
God no go shame us
Your garri turn to pasta
God no go shame us
Your money turn you pastor
God no go
Me
They want the old Sosa
For what though?
That's a crazy, low-down, dirty cutthroat
I'm smokin' earth, let me show you how my heart go
Got my
me for all my sinnin'
I'm doin' it for my kids, I'ma keep winnin'
My son 11 years old, already talkin' millions
By the time he 18, he on his own
trust us they busk us,
Pimps and hustla's trapped in they clutchus
Chorus (x2)
[Verse 3-JT Da Bigga Figga]
We knew, (Its just the street life)
For
My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't
My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun
Boy toy named Troy used to live in Detroit
Big dope
Opposing all these pastors
Genuine 'til my death comes
New Chapter
Writing my new chapter
Refuse to be an actor
Faking is not gangster
New Chapter
Writing my
(arm)
I been focused in the gym getting my bands up (push em up)
Hang on to my every word like I'm the pastor (inshallah) yea
Im boutta blow like
called my phone like
"Holla they sayin' Cassidy let Calicoe
Hear his rounds for you" i'm like
"So? Like that's gon' save him"
Well at the face off I was
out
Got a Heart like Pastor Troy Well uh-huh dats da Sound
With dat Gullah fam Nipsey Hustle Running laps now
Awe man Yeah Its up and Its stuck like
this shit
Vica Versa, Pastor Troy
(Vica Versa)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
What if Heaven was Hell and vica versa
If I told you go to Hell, would you tell I
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