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Fame Montana

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I don't know why they keep playing with me like I don't do this man
White Jesus Two
Once again we back at it
Red Letter Gang
Martyr Mafia
Hear dat
Ain't for no secrets, so I got a confession, sixteen-eighty nine
This right here that viewers discretion I'm bout to handle mine
Ain't never been the type to sit blindly waiting on random signs
I just move, and if he gets the Glory, then we both align
True Christ bangin' if you lost you better pick a side
Trynna' fish for men and tell them they got bigger fish to fry
If they don't figure out to die is gain when you with Adonai
Funny how that boy was just alive, we seen him die online
I see the problem in you
You be playing games but see these shooters ain't gon' argue with you
They ain't back and forth through SMS, they bout to walk it to you
Catch you while you getting food and (BOW) a couple hollows hit you
Brains on the dollar menu
Cappin' in his instrumentals, selling kids the lie
You can't be touched if you just move official. Most his homies fried
Talkin' rowdy on his records like he ain't afraid to die
Catch him sober in the PM I bet Christ is on his mind
That's just real talk
I be with Martyrs going through real walks
Struggling each step that they staggering, yet they still march
I be with the Saints like they practicing in the backyard
Who's focused on the race like the last lap in a Nascar
Never will my squad renounce
I was trying to dumb it down
But this ain't for the streets, so you gon' eat it how I cook it pal
Tell them boys to simmer down
You ain't really from the wild
Everybody woke but I can't sleep because they snoring loud
The game missing the game shifter, the soul lifter
Standing in his presence you cold dinner, your soul shiver
There's no figure that resembles, it's that simple
And he tore the veil and destroys temples and rebuilds them
I'm John Calvin with gangstas inside my reformation
Spinning blocks on satan, while they worry bout' predestination
I'm from the block where my disciples do it for the nation
Larry Hoover bangin' trynna tell em' only Christ can save em
Not being melanated
What else
Or duplicating hatred
What else
No Cheif administration
What else
No spiritual sedation
What else
Pro-black organizations
What else
No consciousness awakening
What else
Civil Rights legislations
What else
Ancestors through relations
Only the big blood who died on that treetop
And he ain't only die for the set, he did it for his opps
They saying Jesus ain't white, I told em' probably not
But his own kind got him killed so what we really got
It's for the Jew to the Greek, from the bottom to top
The Dalit Caste in India to wealthy American blocks
I'll probably never be major and it's Glory to God
I ain't trynna' spoil em' I'm reloaded. It's time for the rod

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