Lyrics Come Home To God - Amaarae
Wasted,
gotta
call
a
friend
to
come
running
Laced
it,
just
a
little
blow
in
the
money
Denim
Louis
bag
and
a
2000
Impala
I
just
popped
a
tag
on
a
bitch
to
make
her
mama
Alimony
Ama,
got
her
for
the
drama
She
out
with
her
shottas
She
taste
a
bit
and
take
it
how
she
wanna
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
Alimony
Ama,
get
it
from
her
mama
She
out
with
her
shottas
She
taste
a
bit
and
take
it
how
she
wanna
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
Break
it
down,
buss
it
on
the
pole
Money
on
the
floor
Come
on
home
to
God
Come
on
home
to
God
And
shе
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
Break
it
down,
buss
it
on
the
polе
Money
on
the
floor
Then
come
on
home
to
God
Home
to
God
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
Shawty
say
she
love
me
like
she
love
the
Lord
When
I'm
in
that
pussy,
I'm
above
the
law
If
I
had
the
world,
I
still
would
end
it
all
Thousand
and
one
reasons
not
to
get
involved
I'ma
call
my
ex
and
say
I
love
her
in
the
past
tense
Drinking
from
a
fountain,
she
anoint
me
like
a
pastor
Triple-winged
angel
'bout
to
turn
me
to
a
bastard
Devil
doing
favors
that
a
nigga
never
asked
for
Break
it
down,
buss
it
on
the
pole
Money
on
the
floor
Come
on
home
to
God
Come
on
home
to
God
Break
it
down,
buss
it
on
the
pole
Money
on
the
floor
Come
on
home
to
God
Home
to
God
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
And
she
want
it,
want
it
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