God’s Gift lyrics

Jean Grae - “God’s Gift”
[Emcee(s): Jean Grae]
[Producer(s): Masta Ace]
[Scratches: Mr. Len]

[Intro: Jean Grae]
It’s alright. You can get mad. You knew the deal from the get-go. If it’s not you, it’s another b*tch. It’s all good. Whatever. Day to day. b*tch to b*tch. That’s how we live. Player. What?

[Verse 1: Jean Grae]
I’m the reason y’all breathe, the reason y’all been here from conception
Reason y’all believe in deception and faithfulness
I’ll make your destiny and fate twist
And when I stop coming around, it’s hatefulness
I paint bliss when you with me, have you crying you miss me
Lying to your friends that you dissed me. I’m your world
Kiss me and the globe turns, sun rise and moon shine
Ocean tides shift in just the blink of an eye
Game transcends time when I spend with you
Spit out incredible bull, lies are exceptional. Think you
My prime-time whiz, that I care about your kids
The truth this? I don’t give a f*ck as long as you is
Hit it up until it’s raw, no protection—what for? I know
You’re not chicken, only call on me when you fiending for it
Only f*ck top-notch b*tches, dime pieces if they’re
Dirt-broke or got riches, single or rock-reachers
I’m who you call your man, who you call your fam
Who you call late night in a jam, 4:30AM
Bawling to me. I’m just plain balling, you see
Being with one b*tch is boring to me. I say
Variety is the fruit of life. It’s not my fault that every woman
Is the foolish type, and, after me, you cop
An attitude, you ruthless dyke. You fell for it, let
The di*k call it. n*ggas, if you with me, you’re killing ‘em like…
[Hook: Samples with Scratches by Mr. Len] (x4)
“Dumb b*tch!”
“Play your position!”
“Dumb b*tch”
“Play your position!”

[Verse 2: Jean Grae]
See this style? Didn’t even use game to get you
You know you been open wide off me since the day I met you
Never let go of me. When we’re f*cking, you love me
When we’re in the streets, these motherf*cking b*tches touch me
I think it’s funny you call me your honey. I call you when
I’m feeling horny. You say: when I’m not around, your pus*y
Feeling lonely. I told you, “Never let a b*tch own me”
Still, you buy me sh*t: iceberg, Sony, Hitachi
And Motorola, Dreamcast, and four controllers
Trip to Atlantic City like we’re some high rollers
Think you’re gonna lock it down, even write me letters
Every time you’re out of town—don’t even read ‘em
What the f*ck I need a wife for? I lead the life of a free man
Told you I was a player since the first hand
Been dealt. You want me to meet your family?!? Well, I got
Some news for ‘em: if you got sisters, put the move on ‘em
Let loose too on ‘em, loose screw on ‘em
Mom’s too—even better, get her upon you
And your dad know the deal—he’s a n*gga. I’m saying the older
You get, the better you get at playing—for real
[Hook: Samples with Scratches by Mr. Len] (x4)
“Dumb b*tch!”
“Play your position!”
“Dumb b*tch”
“Play your position!”

[Verse 3: Jean Grae]
I’ve had ‘em all, from the whores to good girls galore
Twins to wheelchair b*tches, freaks to married hoes turned frigid
Classy models to pigeons. You’re not special
‘Cause you went across with feelings on another level
Another day, another hustle—you’re no different
I’m not the daddy for your children. Tell me
You’re separated, divorce pending. Listen, the only position
You fill with pus*y, you’re in. I’ll never spend a dime
On you, and my time’s precious. You’re whining on the jack
About lack of respect for women. What if my daughter was
To grow up, meet a villain like me? You’re bugging—I ain’t got
No children. If I did, I’d teach ‘em better than you’ve been
Your self-esteem is all f*cked, must’ve been busted when
Growing up ‘cause pretty b*tches know enough
And now you’re mad, blowing up. Whatever. Listen
I gotta bounce. Your best friend’s on the way to my house

[Hook: Samples with Scratches by Mr. Len] (x4)
“Dumb b*tch!”
“Play your position!”
“Dumb b*tch”
“Play your position!”