Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song New God Flow , by - Pusha T. Release date: 31.12.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
New God Flow |
| Shake that body, party that bar! |
| Shake that body, party that bar! |
| Shake that body, party that bar! |
| Come and have a good time with G.O.D! |
| I believe there is a god above me |
| I’m just the god of everything else |
| I put holes in everything else |
| «New God Flow,"fuck everything else |
| Supreme dope dealer, write it in bold letters |
| They love a nigga’s spirit like Pac at the Coachella |
| They said Pusha ain’t fit with the umbrella |
| But I was good with the Yay as a wholesaler |
| I think it’s good that Ye got a blow dealer |
| A hot temper, matched wth a cold killer |
| I came aboard for more than just to rhyme with him |
| Think '99, when Puff woulda had Shyne with him |
| (Matching Daytonas, rose gold on us) |
| Going ham in Ibiza done took a toll on us |
| (But since you over do it, I’mma pour more) |
| Well if you go coupe, I’m going four door |
| Step on their necks until they can’t breath |
| Claim they five stars but sell you dreams |
| They say death multiplies by threes |
| Line them all up and let’s just see |
| Fuck em 'Ye. |
| Fuck em 'Ye! |
| I wouldn’t piss on that nigga with Grand Marnier |
| (Woo!) They shitty shoppin' at Tar-gét |
| (Woo!) My shit is luxury Balmain (Ay!) |
| Im ballin', Amar’e |
| A nick sold in the park then I want in |
| What’s a king without a crown, nigga? |
| What’s a circus without you clown niggas? |
| What’s a brick from an outta-town nigga |
| When you flood and you can drown niggas? |
| Here’s the G.O.O.D. |
| Music golden child |
| M.A. dollar sign, can’t nobody hold me down |
| Now hold up, I ain’t trying to stunt, man |
| But these Yeezys jumped over the Jumpman |
| Went from most hated to the champion god flow |
| I guess that’s a feeling only me and Lebron know |
| I’m living three dreams: |
| Biggie Smalls', Dr. King’s, Rodney King’s |
| Cuz we can’t get along, no resolution |
| Till we drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston |
| Cars, money, girls and the clothes |
| Aww man, you sold your soul |
| Naww man, mad people was frontin' |
| Aww man, made something from nothing |
| Picture working so hard, and you can’t cut through |
| That can mess up your whole life, like an uncle that touched you |
| What has the world come to, I’m from the 312 |
| Where cops don’t come through and dreams don’t come true |
| Like there the god go in his Murcielago |
| Went from working McDonalds, barely paying the car note |
| Even got enough to get his mama a condo |
| Then they ran up and shot him right front of his mom |
| 40 killings in a weekend, 40 killings in a week |
| Man the summer too hot you can feel it in the street |
| Welcome to Sunday service if you hope to someday serve us |
| I got green in my eyes, just follow my Erick Sermon |
| Did Moses not part the water with the cane? |
| Did strippers not make an ark when I made it rain? |
| Did Yeezy not get signed by Hov and Dame? |
| And ran to Jacob and made the new Jesus chains? |
| In Jesus name, let the choir say |
| «I'm on fire ay,"that's what Richard Pryor say |
| And we annihilate anybody that violate |
| Ask any dope boy you know, they admire 'Ye |
| G.O.O.D. |
| Music! |
| G.O.O.D. |
| Music! |
| G.O.O.D. |
| Music! |
| G.O.O.D. |
| Music! |
| And all my niggas say «G.O.O.D. |
| Music!» |
| And all my ladies say «G.O.O.D. |
| Music!» |
| I don’t know but I’ve been told |
| (I don’t know but I’ve been told) |
| If you get fresh get all the hoes |
| (If you get fresh get all the hoes) |
| I’m way fresher than all my foes |
| (I'm way fresher than all my foes) |
| Somebody please pick out they clothes |
| (Somebody please pick out they clothes) |
| And all my niggas say «G.O.O.D. |
| Music!» |
| And all my ladies say «G.O.O.D. |
| Music!» |
| Who runnin' shit today? |
| G.O.O.D. |
| Music! |
| Who runnin' shit today? |
| G.O.O.D. |
| Music! |