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jag - pastor lyrics
[intro]
yeah, my guy morris, oh yeah
woo, this that loren miller sh-t, yeah
peep me out
[verse 1: jag]
yeah, n-gg-s laughin’, them n-gg-s lookin’ quite funny
they saw me chillin’ with meek, i was fat and lookin’ quite b-mmy
smartest n-gg-s who diss me, them n-gg-s lookin’ like dummies
they never thought that they’d see me, i come in lookin’ like money
i swear, park the bentley in the hood and still say what’s up
a n-gg- d-ck is worth money, b-tches should pay to f-ck
never forget the real, these n-gg-s countin’ me out
like i ain’t spendin’ on that, n-gg-, this sh-t for bills
but ain’t no fallin’, i’m big ballin’, my b-tches ill
her dress is fitted, the kicks is k!lled, she the sh-t for real
these n-gg-s get on they tough sh-t, i’ma get the steel and eat
talkin’ wolfgang puck sh-t when they ship the meal
helen diamonds, i gots the boss on the trip, you know
grill up the calamari, the lobster sauce for the drip, that’s real
so much money, i feel like i need a posse
i’m k!llin’ you seed, c-cky
i’m breaded like dibiase, it’s jag
[chorus: tiffany gouché]
my time comin’, it’s the maker
and we just tryna double up that pay stub
the whole world changin’, you should shape up
and you can feel my soul when i speak
speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach
follow me, yes i’ve got the mess
let me speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach
best believe you gon’ get that mess
[verse 2: jag]
look, uh, swizz beatz’ dad told me to stay calm
black power, dark skin and wavy, i feel like akon
they approach me like they talkin’ to joffrey, like what you say, bruh?
prolly kick me out the game for my words, i feel like dre ma
i was movin’ hand to hand, door to door, like avon
mama made a great, got her walkin’ ’round like she’s jay’s mom
yeah, i never look to fail, remember n-gg-s had to eyeball
’cause i ain’t have no bread, the cops took the scale
i get a deal, i look to sell, these n-gg-s look to tell
ballin’ but i still’d be the coach, it’s like they booked latrell
i ain’t impressed, talkin’ high sh-t, fly on the jet
tile the text, tell a bad b-tch to lie on her chest
a n-gg- fly, i leave the brib and land right on the mess
that’s the sh-t, i kiss her neck and land right on her br–sts
boss move, i got a table ‘fore i got in the club
’cause a n-gg- drownin’ up in money, feel like pac in the tub
jag
[chorus: tiffany gouché]
my time comin’, it’s the maker
and we just tryna double up that pay stub
the whole world changin’, you should shape up
and you can feel my soul when i speak
speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach
follow me, yes i’ve got the mess
let me speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach
best believe you gon’ get that mess
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