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Lyrics

Look, look JID back in the city wit' it Jiddy done been all across the globe They say "JID a scribbler, he silly wit' it" "When he spit and I hope he don't sell his soul" "He should be good man, he signed to Cole" "He from the hood nigga down the road" "He was just juugin' right by the sto'" Then they saw the patrol, it was time to roll Saw the patrol, it was time to ride, motor running on Memorial Drive Got a country cousin cruisin' wit' the blammer in Savannah at the Florida-Georgia line Got a couple family members in Atlanta Not Atlanta, we let Omeretta decide They just gon' let that Beretta fly 'Cause you niggas buggin', spray pesticides It's me and the bros, it's no extra guys And they movin' weight, it's no exercise We can pick a day to come stretch you out Only showing muscle when it's flexing time You can see the hustle, you can recognize Overcame struggle when the devil tried Let me bare it all when I'm telling God You know I'ma rant when I talk to Jah Niggas say that I can't, damn lie Ain't dappin' no hand, sanitize I'm gon' slide on your man, landslide There's a 9 in my pants, hand cock You gon' try to recant, you can't now I could step on a ant, ant pile I'ma shoot at the ground, dance now, dan-, dan-, dan- Oh what a handsome gift, to live in a land of sin (yeah, uh) Runnin' with bands and bricks, and my lil' nasty chick (uh, yeah) That's what I asked of him, told me he'd grant my wish (yeah) You dance with the devil, you never dance again Dance now, dan-, dan-, dan-, dance now Dan-, dan-, dan-, dance now Dan-, dan-, dan-, dance now (I'm not a) Dan-, dan-, dan- (I'm not a, uh) I'm not a two-steppin' man, I said I do not dance It's a gun inside my pants, and the whole world's in his hands (dance) It depends, penny for your sins (for your sins) Shootin' up the block can't stop revenge (oh) Nappy dreadlocks like a Rastaman (Rastaman) Where the story ends and the plot begins (uh, look) Momma said the Messiah's in moccasins Tryna save the kids in them apartments and Show a way to live with other options Opulence, decadence, black excellence and lots of it I could cop the newest Bimmer, Bentley, or Balenciagas I could pay for this little nigga's scholarship I ain't caught up in rap nigga politics Play with me and you're playing yourself Playing with death, say him a prayer Kathy and Karl got a K on the shelf I'm in DeKalb County open-carryin', caterin' chef Cookin' up another plate of the best Me and Christo got it poppin' like its Crisco Fried chicken I'm lickin' her thighs, then I put my face in her breast I took a drive, my plug on the west side of Atlanta He known to finesse guys, wit' a hammer on Campbellton Headshots on the camera, knock out a dreadlock That's a felony charge, he caught a F Niggas corner the A and get X'd out (X) But I only been here 'cause I'm tryna help Only one you can help is yourself now Niggas say that I can't, damn lie Ain't dappin' no hand, sanitize I'm gon slide on your man, landslide There's a 9 in my pants, hand cock You gon' try to recant, you can't now I could step on a ant, ant pile I'ma shoot at the ground, dance now, dan-, dan-, dan- Oh what a handsome gift, to live in a land of sin Runnin' with bands and bricks, and my lil' nasty chick That's what I asked of him, told me he'd grant my wish You dance with the devil, you never dance again Dance now, dan-, dan-, dan-, dance now Dan-, dan-, dan-, dance now Dan-, dan-, dan-, dance now Dan-, dan-, dan- Life is a journey, ya know? Not a destination Lean not towards the egoistic intonations Positive vibrations bring real liberation It's the will of the heart, the strength of the mind And the love of the creator that will help us Rise outta these sadistic situations And experience the purity that exists in a creation, you know?
Writer(s): Destin Route, John Christopher Welch Ii, Aviad Poznansky, Elisha Mlotek, Kenny Manson, Shlomo Ari Gaisin, Zachary Goldschmiedt Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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