liveraw gbt - holy ghost lyrics
[verse 1: ishaan the rit god]
i’m having a wedding at saks fifth
i’m ready to ball like a draft pick
my foot in the dirt like a casket
i’m bouta go chase me a bag b+tch
dripping and dipping in fashion
poppin them tags with a passion
bussin them runtz out the plastic
it’s louder than samuel l. jackson
knot getting thick like the ass on a stripper
call me kawhi cuz i stay with that clipper
money stay green like a lizard
this b+tch so cold, her mama gave birth in a blizzard
making them bands in the winter
grab me some woods, i need some gelato and scissors
bouta go dip with yo honey
winnie the pooh, she bounce on her tail like she tigger
fight for the cash and the bags on the flo
standing it up likе i’m g.i joe
i talk biz, that’s ceo
these n+ggas fakе like cb4
laughing at these n+ggas while i burn that pack
chopstick make a n+gga duck like quack
drunk in the club breaking glass like shaq
talk to a opp, get chopped like crack
[hook: ishaan]
in here popping bottles, on god i gotta make a toast
b+tch i feel like kobe, i slam on n+ggas coast to coast
she f+ck me for the bundles, i swear these b+tches do the most
glory, thank you jesus cause this check gave me the holy ghost
in here popping bottles, on god i gotta make a toast
b+tch i feel like kobe, i slam on n+ggas coast to coast
she f+ck me for the bundles, i swear these b+tches do the most
glory, thank you jesus cause this check gave me the holy ghost
[verse 2: detroit l+o]
these n+ggas don’t listen to liveraw
cuz they riding round to that pill popping, lean sipping, jigsaw
clown looking n+ggas that can easily get peeled off
by the lyrical juggernauts, i’m too real dawg
fat n+ggas with tight jeans, they look like m+ffin tops
f+ck a gun, yo belt buckle is what’s about to pop
these n+ggas fruity like daiquiris
more bars like a kit kat factory, these n+ggas raps not satisfactory
fully charged, these n+ggas need batteries
ps4 controller to these microsoft n+ggas, now they mad at me
another casualty, they don’t call me for features cuz they can’t mash with me
no b+tches allowed up in this faculty, it’s sad to see
another b+tch that’s really mad at me
back then she wouldn’t blow my trumpet, now she wanna play jazz with me
happily loaded up with music, no one’s passing me
tryna cook an album in a day, but you too assity
spending hours on a song, that’s a f+cking tragedy
don’t give a f+ck about the hate or any beef you had with me
incompetent sack of sh+t, interfering with stacking grip
streets embraced you after you snitched
i thought that was some odd sh+t
i can give a f+ck about yo 16 cars
yo favorite rapper can’t even write more than 16 bars
rap ain’t even rap no more
used to be hip+hop, bro it’s barely even that no more
don’t know bout you but i can’t really take this cr+p no more
besides me, i think no one gives a f+ck, i’m coming back for sure
so keep the man buns, braids with fades and tight denim
that’s flaw, i’m in my own world living raw
[hook: ishaan]
in here popping bottles, on god i gotta make a toast
b+tch i feel like kobe, i slam on n+ggas coast to coast
she f+ck me for the bundles, i swear these b+tches do the most
glory, thank you jesus cause this check gave me the holy ghost
in here popping bottles, on god i gotta make a toast
b+tch i feel like kobe, i slam on n+ggas coast to coast
she f+ck me for the bundles, i swear these b+tches do the most
glory, thank you jesus cause this check gave me the holy ghost
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