Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song GODS Don't Bleed, artist - Westside Gunn. Date of issue: 21.06.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
GODS Don't Bleed |
| Aye, I’m, I’m ready for whatever, nigga |
| Butcher, yeah, ok |
| Yep, just like that |
| Uh huh, Griselda, nigga |
| Yo, uh |
| Even the FBI said the squad was violent |
| They labeled us young, wild, and homicidal |
| But hustlers treat my last shit like it’s some kind of Bible |
| 'Cause I drove with my last brick in a Honda Pilot |
| Missing fathers, he never got his guidance |
| Got in the game, and never got to get his input when I decided |
| It’s not surprising, niggas not as nice as Griselda |
| And I’m as bright as my elders, Off-White at Coachella |
| How you on parole with a curfew and some beef? |
| Don’t shit where you eat, the first rule of the streets |
| And depending what I’m paying, I could send 'em where you laying |
| Body snatcher jumping out the Renault with it in his hand |
| Had to take a few trips just to kick it with my man |
| Like did he give us what I’m planned, I guess I’m filling up the van, uh |
| Bring it back in bales but distribute it in grams |
| Conversations in the cell, where most criminals advance |
| Let’s backtrack, had my first daughter with my first wife |
| Bought my first quarter, caught my first stripe |
| Set up by a nigga, I served twice |
| He got picked up, then he bitched up, like he was 'bout to serve life |
| I turn dope to dollars, how you explain that? |
| Straight facts, blood on the money when it got paid back |
| You know them hustlers who sling packs |
| I’m tying with them same cats in case I gotta get my name back |
| All them nights I had to pray for this, they gon' pay for this |
| No mistaking it, got a safe with no more space in it |
| We put it on tracks, these rappers copy and pasting it |
| Take Belichick playbook and still won’t be the Patriots |
| Y’all shocked, I’m out your league by a long shot |
| My team gave the city smoke like cigar shops, damn |
| They tryna get my man what Saddam got |
| Say my name and wake these niggas up like alarm clocks |
| Niggas run away and they hide, saying New York’s full (they hiding) |
| Didn’t say his grace and he died his first forkful |
| Nigga that ain’t got no pride is unlawful (uh huh) |
| Things that he partakes in are done forceful |
| Dudes that get down like that get done awful (awful) |
| Pull his razor out on sight and come across you |
| Adrenaline rush make him do it with no remorse too (uh) |
| You would do it too, but you know how much it would cost you (you know) |
| I’m in the left lane, tryna see how much that the Porsche do (ha) |
| Do a lot of thinking, so you can say that I’m thoughtful (yeah) |
| We ain’t got a corkscrew? |
| Fuck it, just push the cork through (push it through) |
| Yeah, then pour everybody a glass, bitch (everybody) |
| The objective at the end is for everybody to stash it (get money) |
| The grip is in his arm mean everybody the blast (blast) |
| And fall back so everybody can pass |
| Ask me, and I’ma tell you that everybody is trash (trash) |
| I rolled them Backs, I sold them packs (uh huh) |
| Started with the girl, never should have showed him smack (these niggas) |
| Made it through the hate, they couldn’t even hold him back (wire) |
| Told 'em everything else, you should have told 'em that (haha) |
| Nigga, now they even saying you did it, or they saw you (uh huh) |
| Ain’t no more niggas committed to the morals (uh uh) |
| They should get bullets, double digits in they orals |
| Stay the fuck out of these streets, they ain’t for you, nigga |
| Brr, ayo, MAC with the serial scratched (brr) |
| Acne Studio bucket hat stuffed with cracks, 12 12 lumberjacks |
| My city drug infested, cherry Cayman Ss (skr) |
| Four in the baby stretchers, Supreme vest and leathers over baby Hecklers (ah) |
| .40 issue nickel, hit you close range twice (boom boom boom) |
| Advisory Board Crystals, Prestos Off-White |
| First over at the Albright, fiends knocking all night |
| Niggas like «Who that right there,» they seen the Porsche lights |
| Extendo hanging out the passenger, it caused a massacre |
| (Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot) |
| Stick with the dumbbell drum, black as Africa |
| Bullets raining, Stella umbrellas, now they jealous |
| Read the same book but didn’t understand the message |
| Drop beamers, Issey Miyake seats |
| The opps obsolete, Chanel mask in the robbery |
| The feds eye on me, I pour some rose gold |
| Drive bys, I let the roach go (skr), still cop big Gabana boatloads |
| I’m so appalled the coke never came back |
| Mr. Goyard Mozart, my shooter need a nose job (boom boom boom boom boom) |
| Left his brains up on these New York, check the chalkboard |
| The Eiffel on the postcard, peace God, peace God |
| God is the greatest, we can never be free |