Lyrics Jayhovah - Jay Gudda, Pastor Troy

Jayhovah

How many times you gonna fuck me up
I’ve been taking it light, but now enough’s enough
You gonna stab my back or gonna cut me up
Please hurry it up, I got a nut to bust, and I’m sick of talkin'
Any more lip, you can kiss the coffin
Any more shit, you can lick the faucet
Talk to me bitch, just skip the gossip, Mr. Cautious
Everybody know I overthink the raps
I ain’t dropping nothin' with a finger snap
Cuz everybody think it’s a thing to rap
But ain’t nobody really wanna bring the crack
Where my thinkers at
Everyone wake up, and just smell the coffee
Sorry Double A, I’m tryna tell the zombies
I keep hearing everybody talk Givenchy
But back then you were Abercrombie
This is why you all make me sick
Bitch take advice, or you can take the dick
My girl’s a bird, I gotta raise the chick, and I hate the bitch
Don’t like this shit, then don’t play this shit
Everybody 'round here got a game to quit, cuz I came equipped
And me and my brother gonna pray for this, like
Dear God, can you please help me tip the scale
I know I gotta lock it down, and I know they wanna ship the bail
It don’t take a lot to drown, but I’ll do anything to prevail
I got a lot to prove, and a lot to do, before I kick the pail
But Dear God, I don’t wanna be around the game
And I don’t like these rappers, because everybody sound the same But if you’re
by my side, I know that everything is bound to change
I think I found a lane, get the fuck from around the lames
How many times you gonna lie to us
I gave it a minute, but now time is up
You’re all some bitches that still ride the bus
And tell your bitch I don’t got time to fuck, and close the caption
I do not fuck with these local rappers
I do not trust any local rappers
And I am not just any local rapper, I chose a Jackson
Everybody else gotta play the back
Only one in my state that’ll state the facts
I’m throwin' out bait for the snakes and rats
Every one of ya’ll fake, I don’t take it back, and I came for blood
Don’t like the flow, then come paint the rug
I don’t like a hoe, but I date a ton
If you’d like to know, bitch I ain’t the one, and I hate the love
But I love the hate because it got me this
No pot to piss, but got lots of piff
Can’t cop a brick, but I can top a fifth
My page nice, Stojakovic, no stoppin this
Give a Rasta bitch, whole lots of dick
I will not admit who really taught me this
But just know… every night I pray to God for this
Dear God, can you please help me tip the scale
I know I gotta lock it down, and I know they wanna ship the bail
It don’t take a lot to drown, but I’ll do anything to prevail
I got a lot to prove, and a lot to do, before I kick the pail
But Dear God, I don’t wanna be around the game
And I don’t like these rappers, because everybody sound the same But if you’re
by my side, I know that everything is bound to change
I think I found a lane, get the fuck from around the lames
So what the fuck is up… Dear God, Dear God
What the fuck is up… Dear God, Come on
Don’t think that we’re done, cuz we ain’t though
We ain’t done 'til I say so, or Sue’s son got a halo
I look into your face, see a rainbow
And lately I’ve been feeling like Rambo
I rather sit in heaven than a Lambo
I’m 9/11 with the ammo, R.I.P to the fam though, killin' in camo
I’m the motherfucker that you hate to like
And you’re mad as fuck, but you take the pipe
Say you baggin' up, but you ain’t the type
Fuck famous life, I’m tryna change my life
You don’t like this shit, then don’t play this shit
Everybody 'round here got a game to quit
And me and my brother gonna pray for this