Video musical

God Money War
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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
King Los
King Los
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Carlos Coleman
Carlos Coleman
Composer
Marcos Palacios
Marcos Palacios
Composer
Ernest Clark
Ernest Clark
Composer
Robert Watson
Robert Watson
Composer
Chazwick Bundick
Chazwick Bundick
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Da Internz
Da Internz
Producer
Rob Holladay
Rob Holladay
Producer
Jaycen Joshua
Jaycen Joshua
Mixing Engineer
Ryan Kaul
Ryan Kaul
Assistant Engineer
Maddox Chhim
Maddox Chhim
Assistant Engineer

Letra

Uhh, uhh You know how you always got that one homie That call you just to check on you (King what up nigga) Oh I guess that's me Stuck on corners and lost in circles I know you trappin, just trapped in that shit that often hurts you Stumblin blocks, runnin blocks with odds to hurdle To dodge law, but God is law, awesome virtue Uhh, seen phenoms fade out Like fiends Nas laid out on his momma front Cause daddy never had his back Always talkin bout how his mama front now that's played out You are who you're made of, all make-up don't make out Bellies full of take out Mouths full of foul words but never put the hours in to get ours Hours curse us Reverse ourselves cause cowards verse us But we verse ourselves War ain't color blind but love is And medicine isn't healing but a hug is And smiles don't last forever but forever is A mighty long time if you never smile, you never live God, money, war If heaven free what we kill for money for They say when it rains it pours, but it rain on the poor So you ain't really rich if what's rich ain't in your core Real shit nigga, God, money, war Woke up early Sunday morn' Mama cooked breakfast left a message on the door She said put this ten in church and pray for better then before Oh my God I said God, save us, money, slave us War, left bodies on the floor, good gracious I said God, save us, money, slave us War, left bodies on the floor, for acres I'm feeling crazy, need a field of daisies If God was heartless he'd kill the atheist If he wanted work them ill and pray for it Hurt them, pain them certain still we facin it Build your empires and raise your kings up Set the bar high and take your queens up Climb the mountain top and wake your dreams up Nigga climb the mountain top and wake your dreams up And we go hand to hand with rock They say White was in the hotel up the block jammin in the spot They say how the fuck did you really make it out Damn a nigga shocked, damn my niggas locked And them triggers pop every second And I miss my pops every second So I'm never second, never second guess me on the second hand Every second count Cause if I'm second than that's still a blessing Cause you took a second just to check me out Could a check me out, I mean out for real We need family time, we got a house to build I mean why they tryna take the house from Bill Now we need a doctor and a house for real Dear Mr. President, if you're hesitant Your presence is requested in the mist of neglagence To fix your residence It's a message in our restlessness Tryna wrestle with being the lesser of Whatever the lesser get If it's a lesson it's really stressin it's really stretchin it We finna burn this bitch down if you really question it Allow me to define the depths of something so definite Death ain't just a step to you motherfucker's just steppin it Like God, money, war If heaven free what we kill for money for They say when it rains it pours, but it rain on the poor So you ain't really rich if what's rich ain't in your core Real shit nigga, God, money, war Woke up early Sunday morn' Mama cooked breakfast left a message on the door She said put this ten in church and pray that motherfucker work We need some rest from stress It hurts from lessons and some extra work I'm guessing You gone save the world but baby get yo blessings first Just so happens when you rap you give god a section in yo verse Might sound crazy but just maybe your protection on this earth La-la-la-la-la Man we ain't never had shit or never knew magic Whatever people had we didn't even have half it I had to have passion and never had fashion It's hard to have class when it's half assed backwards Why you never slinging crack to the crack addicts A nigga think he rappin now he back packin Till he back tracking Then he back on the block to get knocked off that nigga back packing
Writer(s): Robert Watson, Ernest Clark, Marcos Palacios, Carlos Coleman, Chazwick Bundick Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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