Jim Jones - On God lyrics

[Verse:] Huh, feel my pain Yow, they try to box me in I said the brand start to busting Try to blind me with the Benz But I ain't no mother f**ing puppet Sell my soul to be a star, n***a I ain't signing nothing I was raised up in the streets, a matter a fact I'm still toughing You're my mother f**ing n***a You don't wanna see me young Quit telling me sh** rough, why you spending on these hoes You tell me it your fault, but never get an answer So f** hating your phone, imma go X you off my calendar You n***as are amateurs, b**h n***as with money Born and raised in the city, but your mind in the country Just know it won't be long till my paper get wiped And when that paper write, I'm sending hits on site And f** all that brother sh**, ball and some other sh** Never been a b**h n***a, baller ain't to be f**ed with Bust you till my gun click, grinding till am done with Four five where the nut sit, right here in these dicky b**h Yeah