Nipsey Hussle - Right Hand 2 God lyrics
[Nipsey Hussle - Right Hand 2 God lyrics]
Put my right hand to God
Shine on these broads
Stay on my job, grind with my squad
Hundred racks on my car, no license at all
No tint on that thing, nigga
'cause that's how we ball
All these fuck niggas flawed
Suckas and frauds my circle so small
Stick to my script and just ball
First, I pick up my bitch
Then we shut down the mall
Had to pick up the tip
She tried to pay for it all
Bring some 'yac with my plate
Garlic noodles and steak
Bouncin' out the valet with all
These tats on my face
People looking like, "Hey, Black nigga
Stay in your place"
But, it's some shit they gon' think and
It's some shit they gon' say
Got to a brick from an eighth
See that music's my fate
Switched it up, from out my trunk
Went to the top of my state
And I Versace'd my waist like
2Pac in his hey' bryan Williams how I built
This All Money estate, woah
I put my right hand to God
I put my right hand to God
Put my right hand to Jesus, fly like a eagle
Fight with these demons
Shine light on my people
This life is a free throw, success is a kilo
My wife is a C note
But my mistress is Creole
I sip on that Clicquot while
I'm bangin' that Z-Ro
Ghetto nigga like Cheetos that got
More famous than CeeLo
Turn legit from illegal just
Like Pesci in Casino get JS off of P-role
Watch him blow up like C4
I rose from a Regal, Auroras and Lincolns
Low-pros on Alpinas to German
Drop top two-seaters
Was young and prestigious
Phone was matchin' my beeper
How the fuck you gon' reach him?
He makin' more than his teachers
Movin' forward with speed
All your morals'll leave
Only focus is cheese, now the forest is trees
Got infected with greed, distort what you see
Your worst nightmare to need
Is justify your means hold up
I put my right hand to God
I put my right hand to God
Shine on these broads
Stay on my job, grind with my squad
Hundred racks on my car, no license at all
No tint on that thing, nigga
'cause that's how we ball
All these fuck niggas flawed
Suckas and frauds my circle so small
Stick to my script and just ball
First, I pick up my bitch
Then we shut down the mall
Had to pick up the tip
She tried to pay for it all
Bring some 'yac with my plate
Garlic noodles and steak
Bouncin' out the valet with all
These tats on my face
People looking like, "Hey, Black nigga
Stay in your place"
But, it's some shit they gon' think and
It's some shit they gon' say
Got to a brick from an eighth
See that music's my fate
Switched it up, from out my trunk
Went to the top of my state
And I Versace'd my waist like
2Pac in his hey' bryan Williams how I built
This All Money estate, woah
I put my right hand to God
I put my right hand to God
Put my right hand to Jesus, fly like a eagle
Fight with these demons
Shine light on my people
This life is a free throw, success is a kilo
My wife is a C note
But my mistress is Creole
I sip on that Clicquot while
I'm bangin' that Z-Ro
Ghetto nigga like Cheetos that got
More famous than CeeLo
Turn legit from illegal just
Like Pesci in Casino get JS off of P-role
Watch him blow up like C4
I rose from a Regal, Auroras and Lincolns
Low-pros on Alpinas to German
Drop top two-seaters
Was young and prestigious
Phone was matchin' my beeper
How the fuck you gon' reach him?
He makin' more than his teachers
Movin' forward with speed
All your morals'll leave
Only focus is cheese, now the forest is trees
Got infected with greed, distort what you see
Your worst nightmare to need
Is justify your means hold up
I put my right hand to God
I put my right hand to God