jim jones - on god lyrics
[verse:]
huh, feel my pain
yow, they try to box me in
i said the brand start to busting
try to blind me with the benz
but i ain’t no mother f-cking puppet
sell my soul to be a star, n-gga i ain’t signing nothing
i was raised up in the streets, a matter a fact i’m still toughing
you’re my mother f-cking n-gga
you don’t wanna see me young
quit telling me sh-t rough, why you spending on these hoes
you tell me it your fault, but never get an answer
so f-ck hating your phone, imma go x you off my calendar
you n-ggas are amateurs, b-tch n-ggas with money
born and raised in the city, but your mind in the country
just know it won’t be long till my paper get wiped
and when that paper write, i’m sending hits on site
and f-ck all that brother sh-t, ball and some other sh-t
never been a b-tch n-gga, baller ain’t to be f-cked with
bust you till my gun cl1ck, grinding till am done with
four five where the nut sit, right here in these d-cky b-tch
yeah
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