Lyrics New God Flow.1 - Kanye West feat. Pusha T & Ghostface Killah

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Shake that body, party that bod
Shake that body, party that bod
Shake that body, party that body
Come and have a good time with G.O.D

I believe there's a God above me
I'm just the god of everything else
I put holes in everything else
"New God Flow," fuck everything else
Supreme dope dealer, write it in bold letters
They love a nigga's spirit like Pac at the Coachella
They said Pusha ain't fit with the umbrella
But I was good with the Yay as a wholesaler
I think it's good that 'Ye got a blow dealer
A hot temper, matched with a cold killer
I came aboard for more than just to rhyme with him
Think '99, when Puff woulda had Shyne with him – yuugh!
(Matching Daytonas, rose gold on us)
Goin' H·A·M in Ibiza done took a toll on us
(But since you over do it, I'mma pour more)
Well if you goin' coupe, I'm goin' four door

Step on they necks 'til they can't breathe
Claim they five stars but sell you dreams
They say death multiplies by threes
Line them all up and let's just see
Fuck em 'Ye, fuck em 'Ye!
I wouldn't piss on that nigga with Grand Marnier
(Woo!) They still shoppin' at Targét
(Woo!) My shit is luxury Balmain (Ay!)
I'm balling, Amar'e
A nick sold in the park then I want in
What's a king without a crown, nigga?
What's a circus without you clown niggas?
What's a brick from an outta-town nigga
When you flood and you can drown niggas?
Here's the G.O.O.D. Music golden child
M.A. dollar sign, can't nobody hold me down

Hold up, I ain't trying to stunt, man
But these Yeezys jumped over the Jumpman
Went from most hated to the champion god flow
I guess that's a feeling only me and Lebron know
I'm living three dreams:
Biggie Smalls', Dr. King's, Rodney King's
Cause we can't get along, no resolution
Till we drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston
Cars, money, girls and the clothes
Aww man, you sold your soul
Naww man, mad people was frontin'
Aww man, made something from nothing
Picture working so hard, and you can't cut through
That can mess up your whole life, like an uncle that touched you
What has the world come to, I'm from the 312
Where cops don't come through and dreams don't come true
Like there the god go in his Murcielago
From working McDonalds, barely paying the car note
He even got enough to get his mama a condo
Then they ran up and shot him right in front of his mom
40 killings in a weekend, 40 killings in a week
Man the summer too hot you can feel it in the street
Welcome to Sunday service if you hope to someday serve us
We got green in our eyes, just follow my Erick Sermon
Did Moses not part the water with the cane?
Did strippers not make an ark when I made it rain?
Did Yeezy not get signed by Hov and Dame?
And ran to Jacob and made the new Jesus chains?
In Jesus' name, let the choir say
"I'm on fire, ay," that's what Richard Pryor say
And we'll annihilate anybody that violate
Ask any dope boy you know, they admire 'Ye

Ya nigga, y'all had my, I had my Jesus piece since '94
I don't know what I, I don't know what you're talkin' bout
And my eagle — Still got it all in the bag, B
All I did was play possum
Yo, come on

Six hundred Cuban cigar in the big tub
Medallion on, Dove soap on the fresh cut
With soap suds on the Mac-11
My big lion haven't ate since twelve
And it's after seven
We feed the nigga like forty chickens
His tail wag when I send him a bag with just one victim
Uh-huh, now let me show you what my closet on
Gems in the display case, call it a rock-a-thon
I got soccer moms paying for cock
Asians get it from behind while they cleanin' their wok
Coming with flows that's toxic
Deadly fumes when I'm in the room
Repercussions occur when you dry snitch
Red light, green light
One, two, three
Look mean, got my machine
Cried and hit you, please
Say shake that body, scar up that body
Should I kill him now Ton'?
I said probably
Side bets are four and better
Bust hammers with pot holders
And yo, dead a cow for his fuckin' leather
I'm not bow-legged but old school like Redd Foxx
My favorite colour in my hustle days was red tops
My gold eagle arm shitted out a red rock
Threw it off my project roof, saw red dots
Kanye, shine a light on my Wallabees
You can have a good time with G.O.D

G.O.O.D. Music! G.O.O.D. Music!
G.O.O.D. Music! G.O.O.D. Music!
And all my niggas say "G.O.O.D. Music!"
And all my ladies say "G.O.O.D. Music!"
I don't know but I've been told
(I don't know but I've been told)
If you get fresh get all the hoes
(If you get fresh get all the hoes)
I'm way fresher than all my foes
(I'm way fresher than all my foes)
Somebody please pick out they clothes
(Somebody please pick out they clothes)
And all my niggas say "G.O.O.D. Music!"
And all my ladies say "G.O.O.D. Music!"
Who runnin' shit today? G.O.O.D. Music!
Who runnin' shit today? G.O.O.D. Music!