courtney bell - psalms 82 lyrics
brrt
ring the alarm, gun in my palm
art of war, how i study and body the sacred law
sun tzu, psalms 82, n+gga know he a god
tongue’s used as a weapon, i draw from lip with the sword
déjà vu, nothin’ new to me, been here before
shemar moore, ulterior motives when weapons get drawn
better act accordingly when my engineer press record
all my angels walk for me, use my body as synagogue
sin of gods, if it’s ever beef with me, we been the gods
bendin’ arms out the window if money ever get lost
what it cost? check the price of a soul and i can’t be bought
this is art, how my words turn to pictures, leave ’em in awe
what you in this for?
is it money, b+tches, riches, and fame?
feedin’ family and hearin’ the people screamin’ your name
tell me that i changed when the money came
sh+t, i don’t know one n+gga that got it and stayed the same, n+gga
huh, these n+ggas want the praise, not the money, i’m diggin’ graves, uh
roast it all, fall in my thoughts like young n+gga get paid, look
f+ck i look like workin’ a job
minimum wage had me runnin’ to the block, clockin’ in to serve the jays
many days i was broke for this moment, they hate i made it out
quarterback and sendin’ picks to the guys like i made a route
jpay full so i gotta make sure to feed the hounds
blood money come with a covenant how i made a vow
one knee bended, head bow the way i manifest
kings out here movin’ like queens, feel like i’m playin’ chess
loosen up your bra before you try to say it with chest
zero tolerance, use my palms as arms, five star dinners with prawns
i don’t eat it but i feed it to the sweetest of dogs
bodies beat by the lawyers when reaper get called
malcom, martin, i’m a king sent to speak to the lost
pray that i’m reachin’ them all
look, how long will ye judge unjustly against the wicked?
this for the afflicted, pray wisdom fall on the children
traffickin’ blocks, packagin’ spots to serve the trenches
magnavox taught us the secrets to get to prison
ray charles, lost in the dark but i had the vision
hand on wall, searchin’ for god
we at war with the kendricks, coles, simbas
lyrically anointed but the gift get
deeper when the teachers become the voice for the misfits, b+tch
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