EAST POINT PRAYER

Money, mansion, hundred racks plus, duffle bag stuffed
Better not slip, I'ma crash, yeah
You ain't shot shit, get your stats up
Kept the sticks lit, I'm a factor
I was out there, when it mattered
Had the chopstick with the ladder
Made it count, made it to Atlanta

Off to Camp Creek, with no plan C
I was here first, understand me
You gotta stay alert, understand me
If they catch me, they gon' blast me

Yeah
Bounce out, chunkin' up the hood
Money in the bank, so I'm feelin' good
Pulled up on the gang, never Hollywood
Showin' em the way, so they show a nigga love
But, these lil' niggas runnin' wild
Bought a .40 Cal., out the Jordan Downs
Married to the streets, know she get around
I never wanna leave, I'm never out of bounds, yeah

Ain't no peacin' up if you body one of us
Body for a body, big body Benz truck
Bounce out boogie, play pussy, get fucked
When these niggas get tough
Since when these niggas want war with us
Liquor, gun shot, bloodshot corneas
I been out all night, tryna make it out
Swear to God that the set was the safest route
And what they about

Money, mansion, hundred racks plus, duffle bag stuffed
Better not slip, I'ma crash, yeah
You ain't shot shit, get your stats up
Kept the sticks lit, I'm a factor
I was out there, when it mattered
Had the chopstick with the ladder
Made it count, made it to Atlanta

I took big risks, now I'm a big fish
A billion dollars at the top of my to-do list
Buy a villa in Saint-Barts, maybe a cruise ship, well, really a yacht
Just to say that I got it, product of my environment
Keep my cutter for the snakes, you know this shit can get slimey
Ain't have to make no call to gang'nem, they already beside me
Where the money at, that's more than likely where you can find me
I can't honor that, you know that shit was flawed when you tried it

This shit crazy, nobody wanna put in the work, but wanna get paid though
I'ma keep on spendin' on lawyers until the case closed
I'm probably not comin', I'm not the one you should wait on
I want this shit bad, hope it don't take long
Everybody callin' with they problem, not to check on me
They say, "If it happened, then it's meant to be," guess we'll see
I knew you was lyin' when you had told me you would never leave
I can't keep on goin' back and forth, I gotta let it be

(Money, mansion, hundred racks plus, duffle bag stuffed
Better not slip, I'ma crash, yeah
You ain't shot shit, get your stats up
Kept the sticks lit, I'm a factor
I was out there, when it mattered)



Credits
Writer(s): Vincent Staples, Dominique Jones, Jacob Elliot Reske, Kenneth Charles Blume Iii, Arthur W. Ray
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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