God's Warrior

You know e'rythin' a - say be facts man, like
I hope they don't play this sh- in court one day
If you look up some of the stories in my city
You'll see the relation between the music

Ayy, e'rybody with me clumsy, we all be droppin' s-
Droppin' -, droppin' icy kids, - a -ch, drop her at her mama crib
Not with the gossipin', we do that robbin' -
Any means, I'm gon' eat, slide with the tank on full (yeah)

Leave wit' the Glock on E (boom-boom), I got a K, it hold a hunnid
But I got lazy, only put 90, money make your whole team vanish (brrt)
That's a paper trick, origami, I be dolo, don't need a posse
If you got the wave, I got the tsunami, chain hit like Ike Turner (what else?)

But I don't beat -, I beat bodies
I just bought some chain reactions just to stomp a - in Versace
Call me Martin, I stay with the Tommy, you lookin' for me, - come find me
And I'm not gon' snatch yo' chain, I'm gon' take it off politely
So when I go back to sell it, it's not damaged, not even slightly

Raised 'round killers, that's how I'm cut, found out where he stay, don't shoot the house up
Lay in they bushes 'til yo' legs lock up (sit), whoever walk outside first, drop some (boom)
Lift that choppa up, go nuts (go nuts), that was his mama, so what?
- that's yo' fault, we wanted yo' blood, and yo' - take - like a grownup

I'm a product of 'em streets (yeah), sharks and hustlers, I'm from the D (yeah)
Bring a - to the feast (yeah), we not stingy, homie eat
He get greedy, put him to sleep, they gotta identify him by his teeth
We gon' kill you if you freeze when yo' job was to squeeze, -

I got an Uzi and it sound like (boom), ooh, I got a Draco, and it sound like (boom), sheesh
Knock yo' - open, the bullets explosive, fall and you gettin' stood-over (come here)
Can't run out of bullets in a shootout, takin' my time, countin' as I'm blowin'
Yeah, drumsticks, guitar-sized AR's, we a little band

Rapper diss me, I'm at every show like I'm his biggest fan
Hollows in that Sprinter Van gon' leave somebody crippled, man
You see yo' DJ brain come through his head, you'll turn religious, man
Havin' my way, him see us up at the range, that's practice, okay? (That's practice, okay?)

Dead bodies in the hood, pour acid on it for rapid decay (ooh)
Granny don't even know the savage she raised, -
Ayy, 200k get you took off the planet today, - (I want him outta here)
Ayy, these hoes, I don't feel 'em (feel 'em), cut his head like a -, let his homeboys deal him

- who rockin' wit' him, catch his - at the mall while she shoe shoppin', -
Don't let 'em down, just shoot out the windows, that's how I'm comin' (that's how I'm comin')
You not faster than no bullets, why is you runnin'?
I be talkin' to my Glock like, "You be buggin'"

I put Forgi's on my drop, them - rubbin' (skrrt-skrrt), ayy
They like, "Grizzley, bro you rich, why is you thuggin'"? (Why am I thuggin'?)
Big Meech was rich, ain't nobody asked him why was he hustlin' (why was he hustlin'?)
What y'all need to ask is these - why they be bluffin'
Took my FN off my hip like, "You've been summoned" (bop)



Credits
Writer(s): Christoph Bauss, Adam Lazlo, Jose Angel Velazquez, Tim Friedrich, Timothy Z. Mosley, Luis Federico Vindver Arosa, Terry Wallace, Luca Starz
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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