Lyrics Lord Is Tryna Tell You Somethin' - Max B

Lord Is Tryna Tell You Somethin'

Oww!
Yeah
Vigilante Season
Boss Don, Dame Grease
Let’s get 'em, yeah
These streets, I got 'em in a smash
If it’s worth it, throw his body to the surface
Everything is picture perfect
Dog I wouldn’t change a thing, got these niggas hatin' me
Never once did they judge me when I couldn’t make it rain
If you see that Boss Don, he deliver
Every song, bitches they quiver, whenever I give 'em heavy dong
Got that bezzy on my arm and it glisten like a charm, I’m the man
See Jimmy, he my biggest fan, nigga damn
See I do this shit for fun, I was only toying with that cockaroach
Now it’s time to ride, we got lots of coke
Know I cop the best shit on the streets, why you envy?
Hit me with some punani, baby don’t be stingy
Baby don’t be tryna diss the Boss Don Bigga, nigga no
It’s best thing that I get the dough
Higher stratospheres, I can take you there, just grab my hand
Make you disappear like the Magic Man, tragic, damn
The lord is tryna tell you somethin' (somethin') somethin' (somethin')
Every morning you wake up and hit the mirror then don’t know who you are (are)
Po-Po they almost caught it in the crib but we flushed it (flushed it) flushed
it (flushed it)
Gain Greene gettin' money, you bitches, I hope you notice the cars, awwww
(Oh why?) You can see it in my eyes, I’m tryna ride
(Oh why?) You in heaven but nobody waan die
(Oh why?) I love to see a battyman cry
Every morning you wake up and hit the mirror then don’t know who you are
Back up in this shit again, me and Dame Grease
We got another hit again, scratch workers in tenements
I’m innocent, wasn’t even there
People whisper when they see me like, «That's him!
That’s him!»
Benjamins, get 'em by the bunch, bullets hit him by the bunch in his gut
He salty cause his bitch a slut, lift her up
Beat it while I’m standing, cause she cheated, I’m the man
Pop that cannon in a jam, I was the man when I was vanned
Now the bitches do whatever I say, «Baby, give me some
Fix me up.
Hit you with the K."I get plenty munch
Y’all niggas know where he from, we Harlem, bitch
Ridin' on you faggots, y’all gon' hear me come
Y’all niggas gon' hear me dump (dump) at my rival crew
This 50 bag inside my shoe, 5th of Grand Cru
Y’all know how we do, this is how we move on our enemies
Kill 'em all one by one
Bend 'em up in piles, I’m gon' send 'em up to style, wow
The lord is tryna tell you somethin' (somethin') somethin' (somethin')
Every morning you wake up and hit the mirror then don’t know who you are (are)
Po-Po they almost caught it in the crib but we flushed it (flushed it) flushed
it (flushed it)
Gain Greene gettin' money, you bitches, I hope you notice the cars, awwww
(Oh why?) You can see it in my eyes, I’m tryna ride
(Oh why?) You in heaven but nobody waan die
(Oh why?) I love toi see a battyman cry
Every morning you wake up and hit the mirror then don’t know who you are