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Song:Gods Warrior
Album:ScripturesGenres:Electronic/House/Hiphop/Jazz
Year: Length:162 sec

Lyricist: Tee Grizzley

Lyrics:

[Intro]
You know everything a nigga say be facts man like
I hope they don't play this shit in court one day
If you look up some of the stories in my city
You will see the relation between the music

[Verse]
Everybody with me clumsy, we all be droppin' shit
Droppin' niggas, droppin' icy kids
Fuck a bitch, drop her at her momma crib
Not with the gossipin', we do that robbin' shit
Any means, I'm gon' eat
Slide with the tank on full (Yeah)
Leave with the Glock on E
I got a K, it hold 100
But I got lazy, only put 90
Money make your whole team vanish
That's a paper trick, Origami
I be dolo, don't need a posse
If you got the wave, I got the tsunami
Chain hit like Ike Turner (What else?)
But I don't beat bitches, I beat bodies
I just bought some chain reactions just to stomp a nigga in Versace
Call me Martin, I stay with the Tommy
You lookin' for me, pussy come find me
And I'm not gon' snatch your chain, I'm gon' take it off politely
So when I go back to sell it, it's not damaged, not even slightly
Raised around killers, that's how I'm cut
Found out where he stay, don't shoot the house up
Lay in they bushes 'til your legs lock up
Whoever walk outside first, drop some
Lift that chopper up, go nuts (Go nuts)
That was his momma, so what? (Fuck it)
Nigga that's your fault, we wanted your blood
And your bitch take dick like a grownup
I'm a product of them streets (Yeah)
Sharks and hustlers, I'm from the D (Yeah)
Bring a nigga to the feast (Yeah), we not stingy, homie eat
He get greedy, put him to sleep
They gotta identify him by his teeth
We gon' kill you if you freeze
When your job was to squeeze, nigga

[Beat Change]

[Verse 2]
I got an Uzi and sound like, boom! (Ooh)
I got a Draco and it sound like, boom! (Sheesh)
Knock your shit open, the bullets explosive
Fall and you getting stood-over (Come here)
Can't run out of bullets in a shootout
Taking my time counting as I'm blowin'
Yeah, drumsticks, guitar-sized AR's, we a little band
Rapper diss me, I'm at every show like I'm his biggest fan
Hollows in that Sprinter Van gon leave somebody crippled, man
You see your DJ brain come through his head
You'll turn religious, man
Having my way, him see us up at the range, that's practice, okay?
Dead bodies in the hood, pour acid on it for rapid decay
Granny don't even know the savage she raised, nigga (Savage she raised, nigga)
Ayy, 200k get you took off the planet today, nigga (Holy water)
Ayy, nigga hoes, I don't feel 'em (Feel 'em)
Cut his head like a dick, let his homeboys deal him (Bitch)
Fuck who rockin' with him
Catch his bitch at the mall while she shoe shopping, nigga
Don't let him dive, just shoot out the windows, that's how I'm coming (That's how I'm coming)
You not faster than no bullets, why is you running? (Fuck is you runnin'?)
I be talking to my Glock like, 'You be buggin' (Bitch you be trippin')
I put Forgi's on my drop, them bitches rubbin' (Skrrt skrrt)
They like, 'Grizzley, bro you rich, why is you thuggin'? (Why am I thuggin'?)
Big Meech was rich, ain't nobody asked him why was he hustlin' (Why was he hustlin'?)
What y'all need to ask is these niggas why they be bluffin' (Fake ass niggas)
Took my FN off my hip like, 'You've been summoned' (Bop!)
LyricsFreak




 

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