Jim Jones – On God lyrics

[Verse:]
Huh, feel my pain
Yow, they try to box me in
I said the brand start to busting
Try to blind me with the Benz
But I ain’t no mother fucking puppet
Sell my soul to be a star, nigga I ain’t signing nothing
I was raised up in the streets, a matter a fact I’m still toughing
You’re my mother fucking nigga
You don’t wanna see me young
Quit telling me shit rough, why you spending on these hoes
You tell me it your fault, but never get an answer
So fuck hating your phone, imma go X you off my calendar
You niggas are amateurs, bitch niggas with money
Born and raised in the city, but your mind in the country
Just know it won’t be long till my paper get wiped
And when that paper write, I’m sending hits on site
And fuck all that brother shit, ball and some other shit
Never been a bitch nigga, baller ain’t to be fucked with
Bust you till my gun click, grinding till am done with
Four five where the nut sit, right here in these dicky bitch
Yeah