Halleujah

[Hook: Trae Tha Truth] Hallelujah, hallelujah I'm in this kitchen getting money, hallelujah Hallelujah, hallelujah I'm on this block counting money, hallelujah Hallelujah (x7) I'm in this bitch getting money, hallelujah I'm in this bitch getting money, hallelujah [Verse 1: Jay'Ton] They call me Jay'Ton for a fucking reason Cause I keep them tons each and every season Cross me or mines, you no longer breathing Keep a ton of guns just give me a reason I swear God its time to [?] these niggas They playing stiff but I ain't believe in these niggas Brick talk, bitch I swear I been feeding these niggas 50 in this chopper time for relieving these niggas Kingpin living, got these bitches choosing If you want them cheaper prices gots to come to Houston Sets is where I'm from, we wrap it up and ship it So much work in diesel trucks it ain't no way to lift it I'm in this kitchen, come place your order If I ain't got it at the trap, I got it at the border Born in that valley, next to my connect To deep in this vette, just me and that check [Hook: Trae Tha Truth] [Verse 2: Yo Gotti] When you get money say Illuminati Looking like a white angel, a white Rarri Hallelujah, I believe in God Take a brick soft and stretch it, I believe in hard (work) Amen hallelujah I can make this shit ugly, Freddy Krueger Hustle Gang, hustle numbers Got arrange kush prices that's hooked on chronic Dirty money, I ain't talking Diddy I got kiloads of heroin in the holy city Amen, cross the plug Went off with the packers he one showing love Fuck em I ain't paying more Pull up in my hood, bitch you getting robbed Niggas allows about the money and nothing matters My family and niggas and you come after [Hook: Trae Tha Truth] [Verse 3: Trae Tha Truth] I woke up in this Phantom too lost to remember So been trying a to play with snow like the month of December In this kitchen with the work, whipping chickens for dinner If I ain't trapper of the year, I’m the perfect contender King Truth, white knights My connect got so much action I'm like with the price White lips slide through these bright lights I keep a heater, everything on me covered in ice I’m on this white sand maybe somewhere lost in Cuba And I keep a shooter that'll disappear ya like Bermuda So many chains hanging off young Truth I should’ve been a jeweler This bitch I got ain't dropping off the truth sure no schooler Ain't shit as real as me, [?] Get money way to much to count, [?] I’m all bricks, gold hands, this work stretch, no rubber bands [Hook: Trae Tha Truth]