Pastor Troy - Sold My Soul lyrics

(Intro) (Hook: Pastor Troy) I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya) I walk through motherf**ing hell, screaming thug life (Ya) I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya) I got them n***as with me that he taught to gang bang (Ya) I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya) I walk through motherf**ing hell, screaming thug life (Ya) I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya) (3X) (Verse 1: Lil Wyte) Yeaaaaaaah They don't let me in no church, so I came to you to confess I got a thousand thoughts on my mind and about a billion things on my chest What do I do? Pastor Troy, do I k** em (Aha) Or should I let these snitches off the stage and beat and crack their cerebellum Destines where I go to chill to hang around with billionaires We coulda f**ed dude up really bad and no one would have gave a care Ever heard of being dropped off the side of a hundred foot yacht In the middle of a school of sharks in the dark With 2 slit wrists to a pumping heart? I have this on my bucket list to be the one that let you go And let you know that you shouldn't have never f**ed with this Don't you see what's going on Dre found a white boy with some lyrics And Paul found one in his own home, its on Better understand I helped build everything you f**ing see From now on any white rapper that drops has gotta go through me Cause its some phonies they fake, they snitches, they snakes And I swear to God when I go to hell, all of their souls I'm gonna take (Hook) (Verse 2: Pastor Troy) Yeeaaah One and one G The Pastor Disaster Live from Hell Street I'm coming like a murderer Don't you know if you heard of the Way I bring them choppers out What the f** you talkin' bout Pistol in them pussies mouth Bet you watch your mouth now Put your bullet through them f**ing windows at your house now Smoking on some gunpowder, drinking gasoline I spit diesel, and sweat kerosene Mean motherf**er, I think I smiled once First time that I ever hit the blunt I'm pulling stunts, pulling cables on that paper I will rape ya, I'll duck tape ya and I'll take ya There will be no one to save ya You'll be begging me for favors I'll be begging for my papers Look at me now I'm the devil Please don't take me to that level Put the pedal to the medal Ain't that motherf**er cold Its the Pastor of Disaster and I don't have a soul (Hook) (Verse 3: Lil Wyte) Ok I'm mic'd in with Tennessee Everybody yelling out North Memphis 17 people, 19 pistols nobody in our line gets frisked We go straight to the bar, f** VIP Unless VIPs gotta a bar in it and liquors free for me Wyte Music we go hard ho, we go hard ho, or we go home, ho And I might just f** around and say whatever I want when I'm in my zone, ho In this business if your white I really hate it for ya On this road your unknowingly rolling on I pave it for ya Your in now in my way I'm a fully automatic that will f** around and spray One phone call is all it will takes and I'll have G's coming from every way You think you hard, you think you out I'll put a mothaf**ing hex on you I'm in one of the Mystic Stylez You hoes can't even f** with my lil homies Wyte Musics in this b**h and some of you dudes are acting like these hoes on me You got a problem with me, partner bring it to me Remember 600 and 66 years before I met Paul and Juicy, Ya (Hook) (Outro: Pastor Troy) I walk through motherf**ing hell, screaming thug life (Ya) And I was asking everybody where the devil hang (Come on)