Preach

(M16) skrrt, skrrt
You can tell how it come on
I'm finna preach to you (Johnny Shipes)
That motherfucker so hard, you
Hear the violins, the pianos
Shit might get too gangster for
A church, though, uh

If we talkin' paper and some P's
Then I got some
If you catch him saying somethin' I said
Then that my song
Told lil' bitch she can't be
All in my business, she ain't got one
If it's a Draco, AR, carbine, Glock
Then I done shot one this shit crazy
I remember I was just broke
And couldn't re-up on weed
Now you probably think I'm with QC
How I ride 'round with P's
That bitch ain't used to look my way
I got her on her knees
Man, it got me cocky on these bitches
That ho out my league
Plug send me bags and I punch 'em
I feel like Ali ain't have twenty dollars
Now I stuff a twenty in my jeans
On a paper route, I keep that Glock
The car ain't got no key
You know Yay be clean, I'm a king
But I drip McQueen

I remember I used to fall asleep in church
My grandma used to slap the hell out my ass
I see why, though
'Cause when somebody talkin' to you
You 'posed to listen to
Everything that they sayin'
Especially when a nigga like me talkin'
You feel me? (Hell yeah)
Uh (What you say?)

I say speed it up, this shit
Get foul, I'm an artist, not a rapper
These lil' boys, they trappin' backwards
Shooters step like Kappas
Bitch ghost more than Casper
Just pulled up at her casa
Pulled up two door, this a coupe
So she blew me just like soup come through
Step on shit like boots and you
Knowin' they some steel toes
Think I'm slidin' with strippers how we
Hoppin' out with real poles
Playin' one of my shows
Get shot while I'm wearin' my real clothes
My money, my family, and my chain, bitch
I'll kill for
I say fuck the opps, they real broke
Leave shells at Citgo
Glock came with a fifty, catch an opp
His ass gon' get ghost
Pour syrup all in my orange juice
I'm up early like French toast
Servin' beans like pinto
I just told your ho to bend over
If she wasn't an opp bitch
She would've been over
Wide body Charger in two lanes
I can't get over
Just ordered some Dior, them hoes high
I spent your rent on 'em
Feel like you movin' funny
Then lil' bitch
You ain't gon' get closer
Chopper got a telescope
My young nigga been sellin' dope
My young nigga been sellin' coke
My young nigga been havin' 'bows
One car, we hit the road
Just drive that in, drive back
Twenty-five down, twenty-five back
Ran out that house with five flats
Bitch, you do the math, that's five flat
If we slide on you, better slide back
Can't lock up all the snitches
Then just go'n give all the guys back
(Free the guys)
Your lil' bitch a groupie, pull out my dick
I bet she ride that
My shooter got a Glock 10
But he knocked him off for nine racks
You see the breeze, I ran through nine packs
If he send me somethin', I fly back
All that talkin' shit gon' get you whacked
These niggas sweet, I'm smokin' Sour Patch
I'm 'bout my cheese
In the cut clutchin' a Big Mac
Them folks spinned that shit the same day
That lil' boy had his shit packed, gang