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s god - the lord's prayer كلمات الأغنية

[ verse 1: s god ]
everybody wanna be a part of the kingdom
but no one wants to put the work in so i don’t need ’em
the streets buzzin’ people wanna eat so imma feed ’em
the rap game full of followers so imma lead ’em
you beating me i don’t hear it
the power of 1000 warriors is embodied in my lyrics
you can break my bones but you can never break my spirit
they know my sh-t’s the future so that’s why they wanna fear it
boy the f-ck you thought was gonna happen
yeah your girl at my cabin and she got her -ss clappin’
ate that p-ssy need a napkin she can feel the f-ckin p-ssion
imma drape her up in satin cause my money never lackin’
i
don’t know why the f-ck you doubting me
all the non believers now preachin’ that they proud of me
people that looked down on me now constantly surrounding me
got an ak i’m my own f-ckin’ shooter
i ain’t no sh-t from a f-ck -ss loser
got the gang in the mustang we some d-mn troopers
and we execute f-ckers like apps on computers
never runnin’ out of ammo got the drum on the ruger agh
now its beamers double parking, f-ck payin’ the meter
in your club, on your couch, got paid to be here
on your girl rubbin’ on my favorite features
how could they tease us, only wanted ben franklins and mona lisas

[ hook: s god ]
jesus
jesus
jesus
man, i might f-ck round lose my mind i gotta break out
i’m on a steakout
on your farm or your lakehouse

[ verse 2: s god ]
s god the savior imma lead you to the holy land
where there’s money, liquer, women, clothes, fast cars and rollies man
got the prayer for the people ’cause they need it
last supper seems that everybody’s here this evening
they wanna test my truth they wanna put me on a cross
lyin’, frontin’, acting like i’m not a motherf-ckin’ god
all disciples strapped with rifles
ain’t no peace for the rivals i spit scriptures like a bible
d-ck bigger than the eiffle shuttin’ sh-t down on arrival

[ verse 3: s god ]
got it on lock all these sheep wanna copy
300 spartans couldn’t even f-ckin’ stop me
at least 20 bad b-tches got ’em all on me
got so many guns my armory like an army
gang f-ckin’ mobbin’ yeah we wildin’ in the streets
cause a f-ckin’ revolution with my words on the beat
government controls ain’t no individuality
protect what i got f-ckin’ territoriality
tear a hole in sp-ce and i’m tearing through reality
talkin’ disrespect ain’t no f-ckin’ hospitality
uh
aim to k!ll, lethality
agh
give a f-ck ’bout legality
i’m the don b-tch call me the godfather
last homie tried to test and he got slaughtered
fresh to death b-tch i be stunntin’ in some joggers
with a bape hoodie on people watching me like stalkers
bow to your god i’m the f-ckin’ overlord
drug lord armed with a f-ckin’ nova sword
if she ain’t givin’ booty then she goin’ overboard
zombie horde in the ward then we peel off in some fords
4 door king with the rims lookin bling
got them b-tches steady spinnin’ when the light hits it gleam
got my bank account filled i be gettin’ cash so you know my motto’s like wu tang when i say c.r.e.a.m
god didn’t make me b-tch i did it for myself
where his -ss was at when i was grindin’ for my wealth
where his -ss was at when i was grindin’ by myself
nowhere to be found so i don’t credit him with help
b-tch

- s god

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