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Praise the Lord

You know it's Whitey and the Likwits

I say it's Whitey and the Likwits

You know it's Whitey and the LikwitsWatch me rock these sounds from the Polo Grounds to the Sunset Strip

I'm like an acid trip

I'll flash it back on ya, run it up on ya

I'm born in Hempstead, L.I., raised in CaliforniaMister entrepreneur, I rock the shot that's sure

I need a dime plus more, I've sipped the fine liqueur

I want the cash in hand and the beach front land

And I'll get loco from Acapulco to JapanMister Whitey Ford gets terrain explored

You perpetrate that fraud you must be out your gourd

It's time to make like Greg Nice, kid, and praise the Lord

Keep the faithSmoke an eighth

Continue stackin' papers all up in my safe

Commence to motivate, assume an altered state

And kill your whole whack show like I'm Edgar Allan PoeWith a psychotic thriller

No pecker wood's iller

Than this freckle-faced man with the farmer's tan

If I can't bomb on you I'm bombin' on your manSome get the shit, sugar, some get the stains

Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains

Some get the powers, love, some get the papers

And some catch the vibes and some catch the vaporsBetter

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faithSay roll to the rock, rock to the roll

Whitey Ford brings the devastatin' mic control

Like Darrell McDaniel, a hundred G's annual

The tips get clocked, baby, the bonds get stockedMy style gets rocked just like doors get knocked

With legendary status like my name's Lou Brock

In my lands are sounds be shakin' the grounds

Huntin' down crews like packs of bloodhoundsSnatchin' off crowns and meltin' 'em down

I once was lost, see, but now I'm found

Amazing grace how sweet the sound

And when the saints come marchin' inI'm Nestle Alpine White, classic rapper's delight

All these shorties pullin' tools 'cause they know they can't fight

I bank my selections on world wide connections

So get the seven digits, baby, never burn your bridgesSome get the shit, sugar, some get the stains

Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains

Some get the powers, love, some get the papers

And some catch the vibes and some catch the vaporsBetter

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faithSome get the shit, sugar, some get the stains

Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains

Some get the powers, love, some get the papers

And some catch the vibes and some catch the vaporsBetter

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

Praise the Lord, keep the faith

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