Yeah, the God is here
Recognize
Straight outta the deepest dungeons of the underground
Make room (make room, make room)
Yo, Apache helicopters hover your block
Choppas and Glocks, front and get shot
In front of your Pops
Its the grimiest ack
For the money, I'll be gunnin' your top
I'll be stunnin' Allah
On my mama, the Sun, he is hot
The fly architect build the pyramids with the Bronzeman
Like Billy Johnson spreadin' the gospel, I'm Allah-sent
5,000 marksmen ready to spray your concious
Be cautious, I trade metals with the finest swordsman
The time to play, pierce through your heart, Worldstar
I done been to battle, I can show you war scars
More sauce, tryna catch up, you're four short
Bitch, I'm like Shoemaker in a sports car
No others filled with more bang
Shoot-outs from close range for cocaine
The fiends barely shoot it in their cold veins
How you got fire without no flame? You so lame
I pull propane, hop on my soul train
Just for you, the realest, see what's inside of me
You know the policy, Lena Plug on this odyssey
Honestly, I would sin to give y'all the prophecy
Burn your temple 'cause your circle promotes sodomy
Plan is to dominate, consolidate
The championship, you hear lil' trumpets from a mile away
[?] slave, four score just like Solomon
Check my resume, Justin get your masala, ay
Home of flyin', guillotines, man the Kings can sell it
I crack grounds and all for drillin' holes in Melons
Before God said, "Let there be light"
I was in heaven
You facin' armageddon
Season of the seven, yeah
Season of the seven
I'd be less than honest if I gave you more hope
In the city, that's the way it is