| Peace peace peace…
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| Ayyo, who the fuck beatin’the God… peepin’the God?
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| Groupie hoe from the show, wanna sleep with the God
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| Wanna late-night creep with the God
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| Wanna fuck all night 'til she tired, count sheep with the God
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| She like: «Ruck, could you skeet in me, God?
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| Hell no, hoe! |
| You must think somethin’sweet with the God
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| Don’t try to get deep with the God
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| Don’t try to conversate 'n holdin’hands down the street with the God
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| She thinkin’about leavin’the God
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| I don’t care, it’s up to you to choose, bitch, even the ug’s
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| Even ma squad say: «She be deceivin’you, God
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| She’s the eightieth, she ain’t even believe in the Gods.»
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| «Fatal Attraction"bitch got heat for the God
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| So I backsmack the left-side of the cheek on the broad
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| Now, I done wrote a lotta goddamn rhymes
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| But this time I must be outta my goddamned mind
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| The arm-leg-leg-arm-head? |
| gone is your bread
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| With no church we pardon the dead
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| All praise to AKs 'n coffins,
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| When God in the spot you see the devil often
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| You scared? |
| Go to church!
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| You scared? |
| Get a dog, nigga, this shit hurts!
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| Pardon me God, get to speak to 'em
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| Please show 'em the light, throw the heat to 'em!
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| She say she wanna get with the God
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| Then get slick 'n try to slit me, Lord
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| You might think that I’m hard
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| Give us free like «Amistad»!
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| Now, these dudes tryna beat the God
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| Like I ain’t live up the block with a murderer squad
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| Now, these dudes is supposedly hard
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| But they ran to police when I pulled the rod
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| The actions of my calalry — broad
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| But I have 1 jail pass? |
| one last card
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| Who in the street with the God?
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| Got a hundred grands, you can eat with the God
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| Yes, there ain’t nuthin’sweet with the God
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| Gotta come a lil better, took a P with the God
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| There is a evil to God
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| 40 in ya face leaves your snore piece charred
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| Dig out your pocket, snatch a lil award
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| Give half to Price 'cause we peasant of God
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| I heard y’all niggaz bad speakin’to God
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| Damn! |
| That’s fucked up, it wasn’t like that last week with the God
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| Y’all niggaz wanna clap heat at the God
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| I ain’t singin’shit? |
| I’ma let the gat speak for the God
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| If your shit fat then get on a track with the God,
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| If your shit wack you can’t get on a track with the God
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| Fuck I look like? |
| Y’all batch ass niggaz is the shook type
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| Missy on the chorus, the song is wack with the hook type
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| Now, I done wrote a lotta goddamn rhymes
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| But this time I must be outta ma goddamned mind
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| Everybody wanna rap like the God *pff*
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| Go outta town 'n grab the pound 'n sell crack for the God
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| You ain’t gotta do that for the God
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| All you gotta do is cop the L, peep the ??? |
| crack for the God (Pee!)
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| The arm-leg-leg-arm-head? |
| gone is your bread
|
| With no church we pardon the dead
|
| All praise to AKs 'n coffins,
|
| When God in the spot you see the devil often
|
| You scared? |
| Go to church!
|
| You scared? |
| Get a dog, nigga, this shit hurts!
|
| Pardon me God, get to speak to 'em
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| Please show 'em the light, throw the heat to 'em!
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| «Everybody wanna… rap with the God»
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| «Got… ta come a lil better, took a P with the God»
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| «Now, I done wrote a lotta goddamn rhymes
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| But this time I must be outta my goddamned mind»
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| «The God» |