Da God lyrics

by

Phonte


[Intro: Sean Price & Sadat X]
Peace God
Peace, peace, peace

[Verse 1: Sean Price]
Ayo, who the f*ck beepin' the God, peepin' the God?
Groupie ho from a show wanna sleep with the God
Wanna late-night creep with the God
Wanna f*ck all night 'til she tired, count sheep with the God
She like "Ruck, could you skeet in me God?"
Hell no ho, you must think somethin' sweet with the God
Don't try to get deep with the God
Don't try to conversate and holdin' hands down the street with the God
She thinkin' about leavin' the God
I don't care, it's up to you to choose b*tch, even the odds
Even my squad, say "She be deceivin' you, God
She's the atheist, she ain't even believe in the Gods"
"Fatal Attraction" b*tch got heat for the God
So I back-smack the left side of the cheek on the broad
Now I done wrote a lotta goddamn rhymes
But this time, I must be, outta my goddamn mind

[Hook: Buckshot]
The arm-leg-leg-arm-head, gone is your bread
With no church we pardon the dead
All praise to AK's and coffins
When God in the spot you see the devil often
You scared? Go to church
You scared? Get a dog n*gga, this truth hurts
Pardon me God, can you speak to him?
Please show him the light, throw the heat to him
[Verse 2: Sadat X]
She say she wanna get with the God
Then get slick and try to slip me lard
You may think that I'm odd
Give us free like "Amistad"
Now these dudes tried to beat the God
Like I ain't live up the block with a murderous squad
Now these dudes is supposably hard
But they ran to police when I pulled the rod
The actions of a cowardly broad
But I have one jail pass, one last card
Who in the street with the God?
Got a hundred grands you can eat with the God
Listen ain't nothin' sweet with the God
Got to come a lil' better to compete with the God
There's heat with the God
40 in your face leave your skull piece charred
Dig out your pocket, snatch a lil' wad
Give half to Price 'cause we peas in a pod

[Verse 3: Sean Price]
I heard y'all n*ggas bad speakin' the God
Damn, that's f*cked up it wasn't like that last week with the God
Y'all n*ggas wanna clap heat at the God
I ain't sayin' sh*t, I'ma let the gat speak for the God
If your sh*t fat then get on a track with the God
If your sh*t wack you can't get on a track with the God
f*ck I look like? Y'all b*tch-ass n*ggas is the shook type
Missy on the chorus, the song is wack but the hook tight
Now I done wrote a lotta goddamn rhymes
But this time I must be outta my goddamn mind
Everybody wanna rap like the God *pff*
Go outta town and grab the pound and sell crack for the God
You ain't gotta do that for the God
All you gotta do is cop the LP that brought crack for the God (P!)
[Hook: Buckshot]
The arm-leg-leg-arm-head, gone is your bread
With no church we pardon the dead
All praise to AK's and coffins
When God in the spot you see the devil often
You scared? Go to church
You scared? Get a dog n*gga, this truth hurts
Pardon me God, can you speak to him?
Please show him the light, throw the heat to him

[Outro: Sean Price & Sadat X scratches]
"Everybody wanna
Everybody wanna rap like the God"
"Got to come a lil' better to compete with the God"
"Now I done wrote a lotta goddamn rhymes
But this time I must be outta my goddamn mind"
"God"
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