Thank God

Verse 1 Straight out that Inglewood city Where the skinny niggas ride You ain't really with this life I can see it in your eyes Chasing money everyday and everynight, until the casket Drop on my head, give me bread That's my last wish My new girlfriend shitting on my last bitch Liquor in my cup, probably darker than my past get Yeah, I heard that life is what you make it And that she's a bitch, but homie that my type of lady See now, dollar after dollar I need money and the power And a bad red bitch steaming in my shower Yeah, these are the days of our lives Where it's real against the fraud Lil homie, now pick a side I said, dollar after dollar More money and the power And a bad red-bone bitch steamin in my shower Yeah, these are the days of our lives Where it's real against the fraud Lil homie, now pick a side Hook I hear everybody talking about us I could give a fuck We been staying over there But now it's time to live it up On the road to the riches I give a damn, a nigga saved Hit my knees every night Thank god a nigga paid [Repeat x2] Verse 2 Look, see we just out here Repping for what we came from I be on that money Fuck you think I got my name from? Pops who I got the game from And he will tell you "Please do not confuse us with them lames, hun" One, now it's over for that fuck shit That's my letter to you And cowards that you fuck with Ask around, they'll tell you that we does this Sox Gang bang, and tell a sucker to duck quick Yeah, living the lyrics that I speak so Money on my mind, dollar signs what I think about Smoke strong, let a couple songs leak out Flying through the clouds Type of shit these haters dream about Underrated but I'm never faded Underground but the radio still sneaking plays Two bitches, one me, my situation Three's company, I'm trying to start a corporation Hook Verse 3 Every bitch I ever touched been a bad one You probably mad at the fact that you never had one Ain't a rapper around realer than my dad's son Empty Rose bottles, where my gang ash blunts See this is the life as we know it Losers and broke bitches, two things that we never notice I smoke potent, coupe rolling, roof open Rubber bands on my stacks, they too big to fold it And before I leave, I bring death to the beat And let the listeners grieve They know that, boy, I'm just keeping it G And need you to do the same when you listen to me Hook