Lyrics:
match my green.
Killer, Pastor, and Koopa are the master machine.
[Chorus]
[Pastor Troy]
Y'all know me, it's P.T.
Well I un huh and all of that,
closed doors
No more, open sores
With the lights low
Music in my ears
Changed within the years
Man Troy you're a weird one
Fine by me, everybody copes
never hear me coming
By the time you see red lights your heart already thumping
When I pull up in my Benz truck better know my Benz Truck bumping
I pull
niggas will abandon your vision
And say don't give me that old time religion
I'm sick and tired of my homies getting killed
And the pastor's saying that
where to begin, I don't know how to pretend
I wish they would quit with rapping, all of them targets to me
All of a sudden again, the fire is lit,
See, all we need is a couple, let's go act up
Wouldn't believe the scene up in my black truck
A couple shots of Hennessey
And if you down get down,
sober (nah)
Me and Keed in a Maybach, we ridin' with a chauffer (chauffer)
You can bet that I'm ridin' with a motherfuckin' toaster (toaster)
You know
Gadsden, Alabama
My name is Wayne, I'm from Alabama
Here's the back story
I just fell off the turnip truck with Ernest Tubb
I'm 33, I've got 3 kids
even if I gotta
Fuck, suck and swallow in the parking lot
Gonzales Park, I'm followed by a married man, a father of three
My titties bounce
[Pastor Troy]
Verse 1:
Introduction to a lunatic (come on)?huh, y'all playing (come on)
Got AK's for tha stupid shit (come on)?huh,
And that's all
in my automobile (hey)
Let him eat it with his grills, he keep tellin' me to chill (hey)
He keep telling me it's real, that he love my sex appeal
forget B.G., forget 'bout me
Forget about you Boosie?
C Murda, they need set that sniper free
He was still callin' me with rumors, I'm beefin' with
the pastor
I got four different strains in a glass jar
Sliding thru the city in my nascar
Took off on them niggas like im NASA
Bless you with this game like
hard?) absolutely!
they call me big bill murder all bitches;
commin out tha woods with the 30 aught sixes.
e mack'll hit a bitch with a bar stool troy
get ya change up ooh yessuh
Better pack that metal, they'll test ya
Stain chain, gotta hit em' hard
When I roll that truck like Pastor Troy
24's in
get ya change up ooh yessuh
Better pack that metal, they'll test ya
Stain chain, gotta hit em' hard
When I roll that truck like Pastor Troy
24's in
in my automobile (hey)
Let him eat it with his grills, he keep tellin' me to chill (hey)
He keep telling me it's real, that he love my sex appeal
out my shirt
What's tucked up in come with a burst
If they up in, we come and search
Next time we spin, you gon' get murked
You scared to take
ayy
I stash my Gs in my jacket, hey
I keep my in my bag, bitch, ayy
If Uno with me then we blasting, ayy
If Carti with me then we cashin', ayy
I keep my
for the pastor
Who don't be on that bullsh*t
I'm glad that I ain't drop dimes but I got dimes in my past tho
cssisting my young'ns with knowledge that
police
I got my ratchet in the alley with that fiend Denise
Cruise the streets, stuntin in that Maybach sixty-two
Nigga what my dope goin fo', 62,
she rollin' with the, vibe)
2 A.M. I was all alone (alone)
Lamborghini truck in the and the Sade song (sade song)
All day long just callin' my
a mystery
I always got a pretty bitch with me
My bitch'll be like, "Come and get with me
Pretty please, I need some dick in me"
I get bad hoes and you
Get
you coming with that bullshit?
Six in the Third, we gunnin with a full clip
Six in the Third, welcome to the wolves den
Six in the Third, my niggas
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