Lyrics Gods Honest - Bodega Bamz, Joell Ortiz, V Don

Gods Honest

I’m from New York City my nigga, I’m never overdoin' it
Thinkin' till I make it I’m too real for all that stupid shit
Murder music I’m provin' enough to make this lead fly
Jiggy like I’m mason and witty like I’m from Bed-Stuy (Biggie)
R.I.P.
but I’m a tanboy, took a camera crew with me to see me hand to hand boy
Sitcom I’m a stand boy, pay that commissary get my people out that can boy
Fuck a retweet and a favorite
Drink that Henny slow 'cause every sip I gotta savor it
Flyin' South for the winter, Atlanta, Decatur
Fuck True Religion I’m the savior, curly hair with the razor
In the morning say a prayer «God forgive»
But I’m not him, and I got bills, and I got kids to look after
This ain’t no reggaeton, I’m a Latin rapper
If I could take your life away then I could dig the hole after