Lyrics Godbody - Joey Purp

Them niggas selling to them under covers
That's uncool like your mother's brother
Make my bitches touch each other
My niggas caught cases, all we known for pie shaving
All my plugs is Caucasian, smoke until my eyes Asian
Send a batch of beats, I send you back a masterpiece
Might buy a chain that look like it was made for Master P
I'm in the dojo where the masters meet
Talk is cheap, whispers in the congregation
Watch the pastor preach
Been a problem now I'm more focused

That Maserati pull up make your Beemer look like it's a Ford Focus
In the retail, hard to explain the details
Thousand dollar deposit just sitting on dope and emails
Tim Allen, how kids gripping tools
Different 12 like I'm in Air Maxes
I get up out my Yeezy boosts
My watanabe circa season two
Muhammad with the stick and move
The Godbody only speak the truth
I'm popping like Polo tags in '98
Six shipments, six addresses
I charge 'em to the game

Double cut sippin' paint drippin' off the Caddy frame
Two tone whip change colors, I call it Charlemagne
Kill for your brothers, if they do the same
Switch cities, switch phone numbers, but we move the same
Switch bitches, switch locations and watch these niggas change
There is not a stain on my Forces, but it's a dirty game

Yeah, and the nerve of you mother fuckers
The nerve of you mother fuckers think you can touch me
Yo' ass ain't fast enough to touch me
The one and only Godbody
Oh, and it's gon' go down
And when it goes down everybody just gone be looking
Standing there looking around, standing there looking at each other
Trying to figure out who did it
Don't nobody know who did it
Don't nobody know who did it
All they know is what happened
GODBODY!

You niggas selling to them plain clotheses
While I play the corner chain smoking
Booming out they vains and noses
I'm paper stacking 'til the winter's over
Trying to pull up in that Cherry Rover
Seats the color baking soda
Wood grain resemble shaken soda
Apply the pressure to the next or opposition
When my pace is over
Snotty tissues with that Ray Liotta
You paper soldiers couldn't take a
Step inside these purple label loafers

I'm popping like Gucci buckets and white tees
Six shipments, six addresses
I payed the shipping fees
Double cut sippin' lean dripping off these swisher sweet
Two tone, yellow and rose gold like Mr. T
I'm good with that yay like Mike Dean
Killers turn police for that break like Ice T
Desperate niggas turn on they own people like Spike Lee
Shivers when he preach
The Godbody got the truth to speak