Song parody of
Exodus 3:14
by PJ Swayne
Here's where you get creative! Use our cool song parody creator to make a totally new musical idea and lyrics for the Exodus 3:14 song by PJ Swayne.
Simply click on any word to get rhyming words suggestion to use instead of the original ones. You may also remove or alter entire lines if needed — when you're done save your work and share it with our community — have fun!
On the road to riches, I been dodging ditches
Brother serving twenty, partners started snitching
That's why I keep them folks up out my business
Forty tugging on my britches
I forward all her calls, Cause I don't trust these bitches
I was fucked up for a minute
Down bad
Twelve hop out I'm doing the dash, like a car crash
Howard died, I wish that I could take it all back
I got my back against the wall
Hot as summer, but I'm trying not to fall
Man fuck all y'all
See y'all were praying for my downfall
No one to call, with all these leaches in my call log
You posed to know me better
Ain't nothing sweet bout me, like tea from Chick-fil-A
So if you wanna play then it's my pleasure
Answering calls from the devil
And he might grab a hold if you let em
Man my whole squad will bear arms, no sweater
Promise they'll be on yo ass like some denim
Boy you bet not play with em
Smart nigga but I play slow
Spend a band on some pants, them my play clothes
Less than a ten will get you gone
Homies inside your home
Price of a Mercedes Benz, placed right on top of your dome
Please don't think it's just a song
Bet if any one of my spots ever get spent
Ain't nobody getting spared, everybody getting hit
I'm the first to up the blick
I ain't trying to hear shit
When you hear that click click
That mean you in deep shit Hell Yea
Tell me what's the art of pain
Pain is when you loyal to your partners
But the way he moving funny, So you might just have to off em'
Yea, pain
Pain is when you fighting for your momma
But she sick and you can't take her to the doctor
Nigga I be having problems, Trynna make it to tomorrow
And I ain't got no sense unless it's all about a dollar
About anyone of my partners, at your neck just like a collar
And I ain't finish college, but I'm still a hood scholar
Hell Yea
On the road to riches, I been dodging ditches
Brother serving twenty, partners started snitching
That's why I keep them folks up out my business
Forty tugging on my britches
I forward all her calls, Cause I don't trust these bitches
I was fucked up for a minute
Down bad
Twelve hop out I'm doing the dash, like a car crash
Howard died, I wish that I could take it all back
I got my back against the wall
Hot as summer, but I'm trying not to fall
Man fuck all y'all
See y'all were praying for my downfall
No one to call, with all these leaches in my call log
You posed to know me better
Ain't nothing sweet bout me, like tea from Chick-fil-A
So if you wanna play then it's my pleasure
Answering calls from the devil
And he might grab a hold if you let em
Man my whole squad will bear arms, no sweater
Promise they'll be on yo ass like some denim
Boy you bet not play with em
Smart nigga but I play slow
Spend a band on some pants, them my play clothes
Less than a ten will get you gone
Homies inside your home
Price of a Mercedes Benz, placed right on top of your dome
Please don't think it's just a song
Bet if any one of my spots ever get spent
Ain't nobody getting spared, everybody getting hit
I'm the first to up the blick
I ain't trying to hear shit
When you hear that click click
That mean you in deep shit Hell Yea
Tell me what's the art of pain
Pain is when you loyal to your partners
But the way he moving funny, So you might just have to off em'
Yea, pain
Pain is when you fighting for your momma
But she sick and you can't take her to the doctor
Nigga I be having problems, Trynna make it to tomorrow
And I ain't got no sense unless it's all about a dollar
About anyone of my partners, at your neck just like a collar
And I ain't finish college, but I'm still a hood scholar
Hell Yea
