Yeah, yeah haaaaah
Mane fuck all these niggas
That's why I keep my ruger
But I thank em, gracias I thank 'em
When my pockets be on broke mode
Smokin' on this mota
I thank em, gracias I thank 'em
If am rich as fuck I thank 'em
Broke as hell I thank em
If I'm stressed out I thank 'em
For today I thank em
If I blow your ass away
It could've been me so I thank 'em
Forgive me Lord, but I thank 'emEh, okay not everything for sure
Thank you lord yeah he know so
No help where I come from
When you're city so poor
My ghetto, man I love my ghetto
Trappin' out my ghetto
Swangin' off that yayo
Pocket it was solo
Ready for that elbow
Watching for the popo
Marked up and I know so
All day they on patrol
But they have no control
BET no Visa, no j's it was Reebok
Talking in [?]
Locked up for thank Jesus
'Cause I could been dizzy (dizzy)
Fifty countin' a to zThank you lord and I know so
All about my go role
Gotta stay on go mode
Favorite gun is a ruger
Any know I'm a true one
Many don't hellujah
In a eye of a shooter
So you know ill do ya
Pocket it was breakin'
Stomache steady aching
Trappin' out of vacant
But I had to take it
'Cause I could been dizzy (dizzy)
From the streets to BET I did it
Real hood nigga can't stop me
Can't clone me or copy
Chances to recopy
Haters can't believe me believe it
Jesus, thank Jesus believe me
Songwriters
Darius Henderson, Lazerrick Chillis, Lepreston PorterPublished by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group