Hold up, I aint trying to stunt, man But these Yeezys jumped over the Jumpman Went from most hated to the champion god flow I guess thats a feeling only me and Lebron know Im living three dreams: Biggie Smalls, Dr. Kings, Rodney Kings Cause we cant 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 cant cut through That can mess up your whole life, like an uncle that touched you What has the world come to, Im from the 312 Where cops dont come through and dreams dont 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 Im on fire, ay, thats what Richard Pryor say And well annihilate anybody that violate Ask any dope boy you know, they admire Ye
Posted on: Tue, 12 Nov 2013 19:44:51 +0000