Lyrics:
fail we can 1-0-5 grill this nigga
I'm dead serious
[Chorus: x2]
[Pastor Troy]
S-E-R-I-O (uh-huh) U-S (uh-huh) I'm fresh (c'mon)
One of the best
changed
[Pastor Troy talking to woman]
[Verse 2:]
How many folks ya know will open up yo car do'
You wanna smoke baby [inhaling smoke] its hydro
I'm
corner
Eyes red smoking on that fucking marijuana
Somebody dead, looking mean
Where my niggas at?
Pastor Troy then I'm blazin' with that Infra-tech
I'm
To the end it's motherfuckin on hoe
It's Pastor troy and I'm havin fun hoe
Chorus
I don't think they wanna fuck with the murda man
Fuck wit the murda man fuck
Verse 1: Pastor Troy
These niggas asking how I choose to die
Just like a muthafucking G is my only reply
Hi 7, Mac 11 with the shoulder slang
Crank
[Pastor Troy]
We-we ain't playin (ain't playin wit ya)
we-we ain't playin (ain't playin wit ya)
we-we ain't playin (ain't playin wit ya)
[Verse
Daddy's side
Original blood line
Ain't no lacking for chief
Bitches got questions
And I got answers
I'm taxing fa the D
Pastor Troy we ready both sides
[Pastor Troy]
Venom, all I spit is venom, a cobra
Flinch my teeth and I'ma ride till its over
I'm never sober, I'm fucked up now
Say you want pistol
Coming back from St. Croix
First lady to Pastor Troy (well come on)
Even I'm a Georgia Boy, cause boy I'm ready jack (well uh huh)
All you got to say is
me late night pacin
I'm tight boot lacin
Mask on like I'm Jason
Shoot up shit like Larry Davis
You play the pulpit like Pastor Mason
Turn cheek
to Pastor Troy (well come on)
Even I'm a Georgia Boy, cause boy I'm ready jack (well uh huh)
All you got to say is where them pussy niggas hangin' at (well uh
ready to blow
I'm harassed by crackers, the stress of the Pastor
-Look in my eyes-
I'm in the rain sellin my shadow
but it's gone still follow me, so I
don't even mumble
I'm back to ballin', I'm in the back full of Magnums only
Pull on the scene and I fuck your queen playing Pastor Troy
Our weed
Years later, Troy growing up fine
I'm on a mission
The Lord moved me far from that town so i'd be different
Now I look in the mirror
And yea I see my dad
Raw backwards on all you rappers
What's happening? Another baptism by pastor black lip
I'm mashing across the masses
My movement massive
I'm
I am not the one, but I'm the one
Troy Ave, New York City, Brooklyn, uh!
I know this Lil' chick who reminds me of myself
As far as being a hustler
old heads told me
Grab fate by the waist pull it towards me
You ain't gotta chase it pull it to ya niggas
Tryna hold you back pull em forward
Now I'm
Say a prayer for the young one’s grinding
Say A prayer for the young hustlers
Say A prayer for the young one’s grinding
Say a prayer for
created by someone who is lazy
The hustlers know the hustlers know
We never get to sleep anyways
All I know is up early and go to bed late
With a beat so
[Verse 2: Pastor Troy]
Shit all I got is a bunch of problems and other stress
In the land where a little man must wear a vest
Settle for less
But I got
Pluck my Desert Eagle to the bone, then crush ya
See I'm a hustler, just look at my wrist
All yellow canary diamonds, looking like piss
Yo Flip, these
what I create boy, I'm actually great
Homie, I used to stash cracks by the gate
The couple stacks I would make went to Mac on my waist
I could send
create
Boy, I'm actually great
Homie, I used to stash cracks by the gate
(aaahh) the couple stacks I would make with
The MAC on my waist
I could send
Oh, oh, oh
It's hard times
We strugglin', tryin' to get by, tryin' to get by
Tryin' to get by, whoa, whoa
It don't stop (don't stop)
Always
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