Lyrics:
Grandfathers a pastor
My grandmother she hustles
Settled in its evident
I picked up knowledge of muscle
To bare arms and wear scars on my sleeves
For similar
Aaa u know I don't play
Like I was born and raised in
The aaa
Aaa, for the money I be on my way
Aaa Let them know what I say aaa
Desert egal ya know
like Pastor Troy
But I'm stoned sucka, with my nigga Bone Crusher
Baby, we like to bone, all our chicks are bone crushers
We got guns in coupes, in
pocket, around my waist, I feel like Pastor Troy
I put some shit together outside my lot, it look like Parts Galore
All my niggas will fight, they in that
anywhere in Africa
Pastor's house na him dey fine pass
My people them dey stay for poor surroundings
Pastor's dress na him dey clean pass
E hard for my
rock
make your heart stop cause I'm bout it
Jack you like a New Jersey drive
My niggaz are always down for that who ride, I ride
Creep with these
a rat, he probably even feel like ain't nun wrong wit that
My niggas like Hendrix when it come to guitars
Nigga I ain't talkin bout Seddy
No Pastor Troy we
Yeah, I'm in this bitch wit' da terror
Got a handful of stacks
Better grab an umbrella
I make it rain, I make it rain
I'm in this bitch for terror
As for my resume respect it,
Or be sure to check it,
I got a batch of that aquatic sure to get you naked,
So play your cards right and win before you
get tell the petrone and tell them that it's on
ay, yo, they wanna be like me
recreate my flow, immitate my flow, they remake my flow
by while they try
get the patron and tell them that it's on
ay, yo, they wanna be like me
recreate my flow, imitate my flow, then relate my flow
by while they try
If you a pimp, nigga, pimp them hoes.
If you a thug, you better get ready for war.
If you a hustla, make your dough.
If you a gansta, let your
betrayed by my own kin
You believe that blood a thing
Hit you for a pinky ring
Designer things
They don't want it they don't want it
They don't want it they
Listen, I'ma hundred percent hustla from my face to my feet
My lifetime cases the street, my dime places the street
Until I wake and see another
was actin' like she ain't know
I told her it was Troy, we hopped in my toy
I'm fuckin' with these bitches, she fuckin' with the boy
She a good girl
got game by the pound
(Flashing lights, lights)
Getting paid is a forte
Each and every day, true player way
I can't get her out of my mind
slick, the oil castor
I'm in a different space, you couldn't get in with NASA
Like pastor, Troy we ready
Me and Eddie we get to the fetty
You couldn't stop
the oil castor
I'm in a different space, you couldn't get in with NASA
Like pastor, Troy we ready
Me and Eddie we get to the fetty
You couldn't stop
I go
[Pastor Troy]
The underground puttin it down fo 5 years
the blood, the sweat, the motherfuckin tears
I'm livin the life of a young drug lord
a sign it's avoid
Need a mask on my face like Jango
Or mask on my face like Lloyd
On an anti vibe
For when they try slide by my side tryna pull up like
Hi,
riders Let em Scrape
Too West Coast Rolled an eighth and I'm keyed
For my hustlas For my G's G's G's
Too West Coast Khakis with a crease
Too West Coast
Certified thick by the FDA
Certified rich like your sugar daddy
I’m just tryna clout, Sharpay Evans in this bitch
Now where my Troy at, Gabriella in
[Pastor Troy talking}
Pastor, disaster
I'm just laying down my bass shit
You know my bass my bass one
y'all God damn (well UN-huh nigga)
Crank
you want, be what you want (oh whoa, oh yeah)
Uh-huh, I was a shame, my crew was lame (uh)
I have enough heart for most of 'em
Long as I got stuff
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