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Maestro (Fresh Wes)

G.O.D. We Tru$t

185,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Maestro (Fresh Wes) - G.O.D. We Tru$t

Maestro (Fresh Wes) - G.O.D. We Tru$t слова песни

(yo yo, yo yo)YeahHere`s some food for thought(you love to hear the story, again and again)[Chorus]This is the shit that niggas die forThe shit they breath forSweat and cry forSacrafice their life forCivlized turned to savagesMainly out for lavish giftsCheck the story, check the storyThis is the shit that niggas pray for, every nightAnd take bullets ricochetSome would even slay forCivilized turned to savagesMainly out for lavish giftsCheck the story, check the storyYo, I knew a brother named GG was heavy weightNiggas tried to emulateSellin` weight`s how he did itOut to make another GNever finger-printedNeighborhood drug lord, he`d make you say(G) how`d he do it?Had the blocked locked downPullin` levers out for treasuresLike black ceaser with the ledgesG smoked Benson off his hedgesCrack conisour, ghetto godfatherGot you checkin` out the sagaI remember when he made a few bucksThey called him Poo, butThat was way before he blew upHe grew upBut still he wasn`t easyG was movin` speedyHis team started to say(This mother fucker`s gettin` greedy)Already had a Lex, man Dan was vexedDidn`t like the way he started to flex(what the fuck`s he gettin` vexed?)Club hoppin`, takin` his whip shoppin`G`d forgotten his team, now his teams plottin`To stop himMaking mad dough like Pablo>From sellin` mad blowBut he didn`t wanna share the cash flowSo the same old niggas that rode and strolled wit` him(what`d they do, man?)Put a fuckin` hole in `em[Chorus]I knew a brother named OA super pimp niggaHad hookers on the strollHe`d make you wanna say (oh oh)Making pesosEvery single time an H-O would give felecio(to who?) Every Tom, Dick or PedroWit` a sentenceI seen him turn a seven day eventess into an apprentinceMany wifes into wenchesRenlentlessMet a freak on a Sunday, buy her a chocolate sundaeHave a fun day, by Monday, she`s on the runwayThen he met a chick named Candace by the Church of St. AgnusPlanned his attack, now little Candace sports spandexCrazy pompous, he never had a conciousWhen Candace fucked his money up, Candace was unconciousThe nigga flipped on a dime(What`d he do, son?)He gave the girl more lumps than Thelma`s outmeal from good timesWhen she came to, that was it, she was fed(What`d she do?)pull out a twenty two and shot him in the head[Chorus]I knew a brother named DLivin` on the edgeKnew how to make papes, but he didn`t know the ledgeMade a pledge to be the top baller(and) street ballerMade cash in large portionsA fortune of extortionAnd embezelmentD was never hesitant to stage a heistHe`d raise the price to take a lifeJewelry always glazin` niceLeavin` folks in broken armsD was always totin` johns(did he ever read the bible?)Nah, D was never po` in songsStrictly out for makin` cabbageHe`d break and damageHis estate was lavishCoke up his nasal passageOne day, he sat and realized the lives that he tookFor the first time in his life, even D got shookHe went on hands and kneesAnd asked forgivness from JohovaBut it was too lateHe`d mixed the coke-stra with the nose-straHe tried to leave the cityTried to run from his jobHe tried to turn his life aroundHe couldn`t run from the mobThey found him, tied him up, `bout to fill him with ledBut before they took his life, check the words that they said[Chorus](yo)(G...O...D)

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