Pastor Troy - We Ready 2000 lyrics

Published

0 288 0

Pastor Troy - We Ready 2000 lyrics

[Verse 1: Pastor Troy] These n***as asking how I choose to die Just like a muthaf**ing G is my only reply Hi 7, Mac 11 with the shoulder slang Crank me up, b**h I'm gunning k**ing everything And my veins pumping nothing but this thug blood Maybe blue n***a, till I'm through n***a, yeah Situation got a n***a bout to self-destruct Better tell them n***as I don't give a f** I make money, n***a money doesn't make me Guess that's why all these weak n***as hate me And lately I been letting a bunch of sh** ride But f** that where my muthaf**ing forty-five [Hook 2x: (We Ready in background)] I sold my soul to the devil for a small price I walk through muthaf**ing hell screaming thug life And I was asking everybody where the devil hang I got them n***as with me they be talking gang bang [Verse 2: Pastor Troy] My head gone, cause I been on this earth long enuff, In this land of little trust Where all my models and rubs, till I been bottled and brewed And it's been provin' that it ain't sh** to prove I move about a gram a so, but clientele won't grow, until all them basers know, that I keep that bu*ter A new face runs shop with me, said she need a 30 piece But I can't do sh** because I think she's undercover My brother doing fed time, so I move nickels and dimes Praying when he comes out I can break him off He taught me all the game, make them boys find our name but from point blank range show them f**ers we ain't soft I lost about a dozen of my cousins, homicide How the hell am I supposed to hide the f**ing hurt The many tears I cry, understanding me I tryed Then my cousin came to me and said coz go to work Now I'm grinding My timing, perfect, pick a mack and me some clothing The corner stores, the ski masks, the forty-fours Run up on 'em so slick, and get my pistol and click Give me the muthaf**ing bag or I'm gone buss yo' sh** Now I came up, a fifteen thousand dollar lick Yeah Red Mouth, the Pastor need about a brick, and now it's on Strictly, quarters or grams, them down south georgia boys done blew up on all ya'll haters [Hook 2x: (We Ready in background)] I sold my soul to the devil for a small price I walk through muthaf**ing hell screaming thug life And I was asking everybody where the devil hang I got them n***as with me they be talking gang bang [Verse 3: Pastor Troy] I fill my mind with weed, uh, I can't believe my congregation is testing me Retailation would be less than me, While praising me in my face sh** these the same muthaf**ers trying to take my place I hate to waste yo blood and leave ya church clothes filthy But believe I will do it without feeling guilty Let's understand though the Pastor, I'm still that n***a Praising the Lord for blessing me with nica triggas, and laser beams And my team, my original team, k**ers and bandates Try your best to understand it n***a respect, I demand it I feel its mandatory, I'm popping on these n***as as I give the Lord the glory Like David, My slang shot human made f** whirling rocks, n***a my n***as got handgrenades Who payed?, I have layed my life on the line Cops pulling grind, got the Pastor dodging one time Signs of holy wars Touting magnum forty-fours, and forty-fives, mac 11's There's a hundred ways to die Up in the mist, surrounded by these evil men Got to stay hi', Grab the pistol and I let 'em fly, just like hulk So what, I thought you would've never done n***a you did it and d**h will be the outcome I sholl hate it but I put up with it long enuff Ashes to ashes, and dust to f**ing dust Go head and buss [Hook 8x till end: (We Ready in background)] I sold my soul to the devil for a small price I walk through muthaf**ing hell screaming thug life And I was asking everybody where the devil hang I got them n***as with me they be talking gang bang