Lyrics Preach - Murda Mook

Preach - Murda Mook
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Preach, artist - Murda Mook
Date of issue: 02.09.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English

Preach

Hey look the flow been sick
Way before the time K Dot was Kendrick
Way before the time Kanye had Big Sean
Way before niggas ever heard all of these other niggas, word to Big John
I was running round blocks, any rapper thought that he was motherfucking hot
Left in a motherfucking box
It’s real, shit is documented, check the tapes
Man the needle broken, I’m tryna set the record straight
I need promotion, thinking that’s my first mistake
Cause my fans gon always put food on my plate
I promise, being honest we all can’t be Jay-Z
But we can still make enough to feed our babies
Impeccable flows as mommy tickles my toes
I’m in a pickle for sure, should I sell out or be broke
Because the preacher can’t still be in the streets
When you trying to make money off the beats
I used to dream of getting a visit from Robin Leach
Instead my auntie called my younger cousin to rob and leach
All because he had to dodge police and had to play like a hamster
And hide shit inside his cheeks
It’s real, I mean real real
Talking for real real
Where you can die for even asking who got killed real
Where nigga’s hearts will give you that December feel
And we just out here playing centerfield
Preach
I’m 'bout to take 'em to church tonight
I hope they study this verse tonight
Because tomorrow ain’t promised tonight
You can’t win if you not defined
So we out here, 24 7 on the grind
We out here, always got that money on our mind
We out here, 24 7 on the grind
We out here, always got that money on our mind
Preach
The flow been ill
Way before the judge threw the cuffs on Meek Mill
Way before Jay had heard of J. Cole
Way before the world ever heard all of these other niggas, word to Cotton Soul
I could do this with my eyes closed, I don’t need a Picasso
Just throw a nigga four birds and a tie hole
I hit the road and I’ll be gon till November
Pop back up, betchu I’m on, come and get you some
You ain’t got to be ashamed, I throw you one
You can put that on the arm, you don’t owe me nothing
I know I’m stunting, but that’s just how it is
When you a money nigga baby that’s just how you live
Kutt crushed his whole summer, said he had to blow it
Spent bout four hundred thousand, you ain’t even know it
Fuck it, it’s to be sold, not to be told
But you got to brag a little bit, you know
Got to know y’all ain’t the only ones getting money nigga
Y’all respect the shooters, I respect the shooters running with us
So come and get us, we accept visits
With a cake full of candles for your death wishes
Be patient, that’s what they out here kicking
But how you tell that to a nigga with no pot to piss in
Man they said there’s something waiting for you how you living
We just take our chances hoping that we got forgiven
I’m 'bout to take 'em to church tonight
I hope they study this verse tonight
Because tomorrow ain’t promised tonight
You can’t win if you not defined
So we out here, 24 7 on the grind
We out here, always got that money on our mind
We out here, 24 7 on the grind
We out here, always got that money on our mind
Preach

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Other songs of the artist:

NameYear
Crazy Dope ft. Sean Price, Milk Dee, Murda Mook 2015