paroles de chanson On God (feat. Gucci Mane & Cootie) - Gucci Mane , Cootie , BiC Fizzle

Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up (ha)
(Fizzle, go)

Designer, my body on focus
Really been runnin' up commas, you notice?
Right on the block where I'm posted
How he a trapper, play sports and a poet?
1017, I'm with Wop and them boys
Fizzle'll mind it, but far from the boards
Still in the hood, goin' fast in them tours
Straight out the woods, hear that shit in my voice

Step in, step out, one feet in the industry, one in the trap
Backside I'm stretchin', I'm doggin' her out
Teach you a lesson, that just like the math
Calculate, pound after pound after pound
Re-up, I get 'em gone outta town
Feet up, step on a nigga, he frown
So Icy Fizzle, the talk of the town

On God, I'm from the bottom, I beat all the odds
I watched scammers get rich off of fraud
Glock .43 front seat when I ride
Lean to the side, after robbin', I slide
Straight out the jungle, that youngin survived
That hunger and hustle, it's stuck in his eyes
Switch on the blick, now it rapidly firin'
Claimin' they step, but niggas be lyin', on God

Feelin' like the man when I step in
Ridin' in the Trackhawk, you know I keep the FN
Ice all over my neck
Make you wanna find which car had a wreckin'
Ol' girl thick as my drink
Let her come chill in the trap with the dope man
Tell the lil' nigga, "Don't play with me"
Nigga, I'm a boss, you the motherfuckin' doorman

Know I got drip like a sink
Bitch, I'm with Guwop, I might just go buy me a mink
Nigga, I don't cap, I trap
Before the deal, I had that ice on my link
Put this shit all in my mouth
So Icy my grill, nigga might freeze up the drink
Nigga reach for it, he'll die
Bitch, I'm a soldier, I should go buy me a tank

Move like a top boy, you ain't a real trap nigga
Move on your block, make it real, real hot
Granny like, "Boy, what's wrong with that phone?"
Gotta turn the ringer off 'cause it never, ever stop
Know I make the hotline bling
Bust down Cartier, know I had to freeze up the watch
MVP of the trap, nigga might pull up to the spot with a bust down pot (go)

Gucci Mane the real La Flare and we do real big business here
I turn men to millionaires, leave with two gold souvenirs
Coke all in my fingernails, all white like some Nouveau nails
I trapped out my younger years, my mama shed so many tears

Eatin' two too many pills, he don't even know how to feel
Try to meme us, don't wanna live, brains all on the steering wheel
Guwop, I'm a valley boy, but not from that Cali, though
Bouldercrest my addy, ho, this shit just like Dekalio

Niggas never play with me with all them fuckin' local jokes
My plug don't even speak no English, bitch, this ain't no local dope
Got the type of millions, make your kinfolk start trippin'
The way this money flippin', got my shooters ridin' Bentleys
(On God)