Jim Jones - On God lyrics

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 hit's 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