Lyrics:
We've breached the walls and taken the city
Guts and limbs scattered around
We raid their homes to reclaim Helen
Then burned it down
A fallen friend
heaven above kissed by the sun
Have, have mercy on me
Have mercy on my soul
Have mercy on me Have mercy on me
Have mercy on me Have mercy on me
Have
real pimp players don't never roll fake
I'm bout to hit Dove Way, get past Troy's
I'm dipping by myself, I'm bout to call up my boys
I pass by
Troy and his boy, doin his best
And I'ma take him out the game why'all
It ain't no thang why'all
You want to buck I'll rip you up like a chainsaw
trail! They raided my blow spot in Troy! My bitch get so emotional when I treat her like a toy! it ain’t my fault, I wasn’t raised right, so call me hell
on cloud nine, like some nike airs, and when I thought my luck was up,
you was right there.
Hook:
Bridge:
“Whatever You Want” Written by Troy Harrington,
Troy watched as I tethered their champion behind my chariot
Triumphantly circling its walls dragging desecrated corpse in tow
The peace of Elysium this
muthafuckers just like to spray
Verse 1: (Pastor Troy)
I'm from the ghetto, Jerry Springer, BET
Bout a million muthafuckers in there trapped with me
This that lavish music
Know we getting to it
Get that bag and move it
Then we come collect our change just like how a pastor do it
Sliding in a range
Pastor Troy w kawałku Dirty Atlanta
Polecę stylem który burzę rozpęta
To siła w wersach plus moc naszych wokali
Inspiracją tych dwóch ziomali
Jak D4L
, by God, amen
Can't forget to thank him, young, fresh and shameless
Back to it, waste no time
Black Uzi, Draco, 9
Back boomin' smokin' bomb
Its S.Y.K.S
How you do
How you be
How you see
I am the one rejecting all of your obsolete gods
I know that I'll probably check against these obtuse
of joy
Shouts my nigga boo bizy and my nigga troy
I'm bout to go fishing, bring me a scale
Ahoy ladies rub your tit's if you
Fuck with a dope boy!
Hands
to throw in Gomes to get it done
It's on and I've begun the scissor cutting stuff
Come on come one by one by two by two by three
Welcome to Boston
Here's our
You Troy, I'ma come on the rhythm
With a little communism
Chick-a chick-a I'm
Chick-a chick-a on
Chick-a chick-a my
My, own shit
Like
never been a man who wasn't bitten by the bug
Yeah, rockin' and rollin' with the bug
Rollin' and strollin' with the bug
Itchin' and twitchin', singin'
Lathan
And she throwing passes like Troy Aikman
And she really into twisting facts like false statements
He's into twisting backs by throwing his weight
a pastor. Grew up with no father, I'm a rich bastard.
I don't really want that hoe boy you can have her.
I'm too busy in that trap makin' it add up.
Killin'
will change for the Better
But it seems like the pastor is only more bitter and all they say is bid (Pray)
I'm only 18 years old what do I do?
Where do
give me a break
Hey, no longer can we stand by, oh
No longer can we stand by, oh
No longer can we stand by, oh
(Forever) I think its time to fight with
Said she tired of lil' money, need a big boy
Pull up 20 inch blades like I'm Lil Troy
Now it's everybody flockin', need a decoy
Shawty mixing up
you have faced before
Say no more, I know that I'm ready
I don't think you're ready
It's just an infant
It's just a boy
What sort of imminent
anaconda, yeah
Treat the Bugatti like Honda, yeah
Yeah, wrist, Rollie that, Audemar, Patek, no Muller
Do a drive-by in a '64 (yeah)
We can shoot it out
a prayer for me
That church house you know I stray from it I run away from it
Cause Pastor pick on me his whole serum
I know I ain’t been praying like I
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