Song parody of
Gad
by Psya
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Yea
I'm from the land
Of the 5 and 6
Prices on your head
Are paid with counterfeit
Jakes looking for a face
Tryna make it stick
All faith no case
So they must acquit
I can show it
Better than I tell it
The word can't be sold
Don't you let em sell it
They want the smoke
But they don't inhale it
Packaging the work
But they never mail it
Quick to sell your soul
For a couple dollars
No amount of big blues
Can buy the living water
Vegan preaching tryna keep
The lambs from the slaughter
I told the deacon stop creeping
With the pastor's daughter
I dead beats
But a real father
When I'm wrestling the beat
Call me Sergeant Slaughter
I'm Jimmy Snuka
With the cook up
Superfly and smart enough
To know to pick the book up
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
Soul taxed
And gotta pay the interest
This marathon of life
Is a game of inches
I got the ball
And it's 4th and 10
And I ain't tryna tie
I'm going for the win
My sins
Will bring me to my knees
I'm not throwing Hail Mary's
I ain't Drew Brees
My saints
Are from the 12 tribes
12 thousand times 12
When it's time to ride
No drums
You gone feel the vibe
I'm numb to the world
But I feel alive
Could've died
On them summer nights
But I'm tryna eat the fruit
From the tree of life
Soul starving
Tryna get a plate
And I got my dinner plans
At the pearly gates
Long gone
But I'm coming home
On my 99 Mike
Leave the Bull alone
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
Yea
I'm from the land
Of the 5 and 6
Prices on your head
Are paid with counterfeit
Jakes looking for a face
Tryna make it stick
All faith no case
So they must acquit
I can show it
Better than I tell it
The word can't be sold
Don't you let em sell it
They want the smoke
But they don't inhale it
Packaging the work
But they never mail it
Quick to sell your soul
For a couple dollars
No amount of big blues
Can buy the living water
Vegan preaching tryna keep
The lambs from the slaughter
I told the deacon stop creeping
With the pastor's daughter
I dead beats
But a real father
When I'm wrestling the beat
Call me Sergeant Slaughter
I'm Jimmy Snuka
With the cook up
Superfly and smart enough
To know to pick the book up
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
Soul taxed
And gotta pay the interest
This marathon of life
Is a game of inches
I got the ball
And it's 4th and 10
And I ain't tryna tie
I'm going for the win
My sins
Will bring me to my knees
I'm not throwing Hail Mary's
I ain't Drew Brees
My saints
Are from the 12 tribes
12 thousand times 12
When it's time to ride
No drums
You gone feel the vibe
I'm numb to the world
But I feel alive
Could've died
On them summer nights
But I'm tryna eat the fruit
From the tree of life
Soul starving
Tryna get a plate
And I got my dinner plans
At the pearly gates
Long gone
But I'm coming home
On my 99 Mike
Leave the Bull alone
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Breathe
