[Pusha T] (Kanye West) I believe there’s a god above me I’m just the god of everything else I put hoes in everything else New God Flow, fuck everything else Supreme dope dealer, write it in bold letters They love a nigga’s spirit like Pac at the Coachella They said Pusha aint fit with the umbrella But I was good with the Yay as a wholesaler I think it’s good that Ye got a blow dealer A hot temper, matched with a cold killer I came up more, for more than just to rhyme with him Think ’99, when Puff woulda had Shyne with him (Matching Daytonas, rose gold on us) Going ham in the Ibiza done took a toll on us (But since you over do it, I’mma pour more) Well if you goin’ coupe, I’m going 4 door
[Hook] Shake that body, party that body Come and have a good time with G-O-D.
[Pusha T] Step on they necks till they can’t breathe Claim they 5 stars but sell you dreams They say death multiplies by three’s Lined them all up and lets just see Fuck ‘em ‘Ye, fuck ‘em ‘Ye I wouldn’t piss on that nigga with Grand Marnier They shoulda shopping in target My shit is luxury Balmain I’m ballin’, I’m all red A nick sold in the park then I want in Whats a king without a crown nigga Whats a circus without you clown niggas Whats a brick from an outta town nigga When you flood and you can drown niggas It’s the GOOD music golden child M-A-Dollar sign aint nobody hold me down
[Kanye West] Hold up, I ain’t tryna stunt man But the Yeezy’s jumped over the jumpman Went from most hated to the champion God flow I guess that’s a feeling only me and Lebron know I’m living 3 dreams, Biggie Smalls, Dr. King, Rodney Kings Uh, cause we can’t get along, no resolution Till we drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston Cars, money, girls and the clothes Aww man, you sold your soul Nah man, mad people was frontin’ Aww man, made something from nothing Picture working so hard and you cant cut through That can mess up your whole life, like the uncle that touched you What has the world come to? I’m from the 312, where cops don’t come through, and dreams don’t come true Like where did God go, in his Murcielago From working McDonalds, barely paying the car note He even got enough to get his mama a condo Than they ran up and shot him right in front of his mom 40 killings in a weekend, 40 killings in a week Man the summer too hot you can feel it in the street Welcome to Sunday service if you hope to someday surface We got green our my eyes, just follow my Eric Sermon Did Moses not part the water with the cane Did strippers not make an arc when I made it rain Did Yeezy not get signed by Hov and Dame Ran to Jacob’s and made the new Jesus Chains In Jesus name, let the choir say I’m on fire ayy, that’s what Richard Pryor Say And we annihilate anybody that violate Ask any dopeboy you know, they admire Ye’
GOOD Music, GOOD Music, GOOD Music, GOOD Music And all my niggas say GOOD Music And all my ladies say GOOD Music I don’t know but I’ve been told I don’t know but I’ve been told If you get fresh get all the hoes If you get fresh get all the hoes I’m way fresher than all my foes I’m way fresher than all my foes Somebody please pick out they clothes Somebody please pick out they clothes And all my niggas say GOOD Music And all my ladies say GOOD Music Who run this shit today: GOOD Music Who run this shit today: GOOD MusicTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
