Joe Budden, Paul Cain, Fabolous - Oh My God lyrics

Oh my god (new shit)
Yeah, oh my god, yeah (Fabolous)
Uh, oh my god (Paul Cain, Joe Budden, A Team)
Oh my god (Stack Bundles)
Real talk nigga, oh my god (Desert Storm)
Shit, oh my god (DJ OnPoint, Joe Budden)
(let's go, DJ OnPoint)

They call me F-A-Beezy
(Uh) , sometimes Stizzo (Uh)
The wrist on freezy
(Uh) , neck on glizzo (yeah)
The coupe move easy
(yeah) at two double-izzo (Woo)
Truck look cheezy (Clue)
And it's jacked up like it sit on stilettos
Can't you see the glit' on the
Pebble that sit on the bezel
None of you little scraps couldn't
Get on my level take more than a hot song to
Try to sit on the devil


Got respect when I killed "Money
Power" the first time
When they tried to knock down
The towers the first time
And the only reason I'm talking 'bout it
Is so you know the real talk
Of New York's about it i'm with a bitch
With a tight ass that shakes
Her suck game will one
Gulp: White Castle shakes
Got the home right past the lake
When I came they stop us
This time might blast the jake
I'm the nigga on the couches in clubs
And I stand out from the rest
Of the slouchers and scrubs
Bottles and bottles with a
Train of pretty hoes
That look like they could be amazing videos
We in the caps with the Yankee logos
Blowing on the stanky dro dro
The pinky snow-globe
And you know the link be so "oh"
Niggas look fast but the blinks be slow-mo
I could spot a kinky ho though
All hood bitch
She just tryna make you think she SoHo
Plus I know the game like the back of my hand
When I'm lazy
You can catch me in the back of sedans
When I'm gone
You can bet I'm coming back with a tan
With the Mickey D signs on
The back of my pants
And I act like the man, 'cause this my time
Plus the hood say they miss my dimes
It's young money

Yeah, DJ Clue
Desert Storm (is this what you want, man?)
Y'all can't fuck with my wolves, man
For real (huh?)
Come on y'all, yeah (is this what you want?)

Now niggas say they in the
Hood like Mister Softee
They in the hood getting
Treated like Mister Softie
"I clap the four-fifth", if you believe that
Then you believe Rick James
Died of natural causes
I'm twisting up trees-chronic to
Switching up ebonics
Started in the fifth grade
Switching up etonics
Know a few dudes that'll spit at your dome
So go see 'em if you
Really want invisible stones
Try and get at me to hit him
Just type forty acres and a
Mule in your navi system
My hood they kidnapping your kids
See, we try and Tom Cruise
And Jamie what collateral is
Whack dudes in the game is a problem
But they like Maurice Malone jeans
Their name will stay on the bottom
Murdering that? Nah, heard him, he's sub par
Coyote Ugly rappers
Keep working at your bars

(yeah) yeah, y'all know who it is
Uh, huh (SLK)
Motherfucker, I'm Cain (Paul Cain) fuck

Cain got the heart of a soldier
Mind of a general
Strategy is important, timing is critical
We wear tracks out, lyrically I'm a beast
From Brooklyn's backbone
Epitome of the streets
Only the strong survive
If you physically weak
You get gunbutted, stabbed, shot
And critically beat 'Cause listen
Ain't no shook hands in Brooklyn
Presidential with the matching
Bullet bracelet, it's a good look
Man
Call me whatever, I hustle and I rap a little
You see the color stones chain look
Like a pack of Skittles i give 'em anthrax
Every bar is that official
I know I'm a gangster
I ain't got to pack a pistol
I don't rap in riddles, I give it to a nigga
Straight, no chaser
I'm like Hen' on the rocks
If it ain't the fifth
It's probably the Glock
I'm the nigga Clue and Duro call when
They need the bodies to drop
If it ain't the chain
It's probably the watch
When I ride if it ain't the truck or sedan
It's probably the drop
Play the block, I don't party a lot
I'm the one who sent the goon with the
Snub to get the jewels from the club
I could never blow all my dough
When I get at least ten people
Robbed at all my shows
And all I know: money, clothes, birds
And cars
Running from Po's, champagne, furs, and R's
Quite sure you must've heard of the God
If not I'm Cain, Triangle Offense
I'm a third of the squad
I'm the first line of the defense
The star point guard is back starting
Y'all be used to riding the bench
Fuck that "no women, no kids" shit
When the shotty blows, everybody goes
Business is business
But dig this, fuck a guilty conscience
I'll put a slug in you
Really give you something to live with
Fuck street fighting
I pull a hammer in a split second
The kid breathe fire, and speak lightning
These niggas ain't writing
All they did was analyze my flow, and
Use my style so their liking, nigga

Fuck (yeah) , yeah (Desert Storm) Cain
Ask about me

Now the year's new, I laid my game flat
I want my spot back, take two, motherfucker