Lyrics:
and the pastor want my money
I don’t have no friends, I’m surrounded by Chucky
I don’t have no friends, I’m surrounded by Chucky
I forever making money, I’m from
actions pouring back to stone minds
Capture stories of a relapsing boy he's lacking home ties
Practicing pastor Troy we throw up more rhymes
Southern images
Leave us in peace, or you'll be de-boned
Oh, oh, dear, Pastor Bob's gone way off track Landed in hell with a thud and a crack
He aimed for the heavens,
with an accent
Just cartwin, can't even relax in my room,
That brown paper bag money push my mattress through the roof
This for my niggas getting
difficulty level extreme
I'm getting the victory, never a cheat
Sweaty my hands cause I'm getting them greased
You sure
Pass the joy
Mass, I'm going to Pastor
sweeter than honey
I'm on these streets in a Benz, see me getting this money
Can't forget about my friends, yelling "Free Rummy"
Real nigga for real,
right
Now as I'm speakin'
No new friends cause these
Fuck niggas be leachin' pastor Quando Rondo
On the track I be preachin'
Since I came up the fake love
laced by Troy
Fuck with Nore then you know
That you some dumb boy
Me and Clipse got clips for
Ya'll faggots and boys what!
I blaze bombs, nowadays it's
strawberries for many a day
Hard work with no future for the harvest was done
And I headed eastward a-travelin' by thumb
And nobody wanted me here in this town
I
[sample of "If and When" by The Three Degrees + Fat Joe]
I can see loneliness, heading my way
The light, of love has blown out (it's a new day
we was born soldiers
We do it one way, the hard way get it up fasho nigga
BIG MONEY HEAVY WEIGHT !
[Mannie Fresh]
For the power of the Kitty Cat
Livin' dat, yo what's up black?
Well its my third day home and not a cent to my name
No jobs they claim I'm back in the drug game
I need some money in
nasa
Youngins robbin' thses niggas like a crooked pastor
Blastin' off on niggas like they work for nasa
Im stackin' hard on these niggas i can do it
on the boulevard
They were made by a little man
Down in El Paso
I was passin' though town
Singin' at the rodeo
He said 'they cost a little more
But for
a raptor
That's a T-Rex in a V-neck for the rapture
I’m a factor and your facial
I will fracture to a fraction
No one-half and I hate math
Pastor’s like
(Mustard on the beat hoe)
Loyalty, lawyer fees
Gas prices, oil fees
Passive aggressive pastors
Cheating you out your royalties
Whippin'
of men in the court house yard any time that you go by
Playin' checkers and tradin' odds and makin' jokes about their wives
They wait all week for pay
come to do the rest
Step in the way, multiple shots are goin through your chest
You must have called pastor troy 'cause boy, you is blessed
And I'ma
We poppin' rubber bands!
Spend this money by the grand!
We Poppin' rubber bands, spend
This money by grand
What you make up in a week
Nigga I got it
have sex for money, the hood don't love me
The cops wanna kill me, this nonsense built me
And I got no place to go
They bomb my village, they call us
lonely (by my lonely)
I had to make a couple bands by my lonely (by my lonely)
Fuck nigga, I don't wanna be your homie (for real)
Yeah, Speaker
Yeah, yeah
It's kinda hard sayin' this shit to your face
So I do it over snares and bass
Music take me away
(I got to hold on, hold on to my
of damn shame
And yous a damn lame thankin that my fo don't ride
So Paul will work them all y'all to the east side
[Hook]
[Pastor Troy]
Last but not least
"They judge us by the color of our skin
But not by the content of our character"
Some of the realest sh - I ever heard
So hard being black (black)
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