All we got is us, in God we trust This how the job sound when it's properly done I'ma only run this down to y'all cocksuckers once I'm not to be touched Like the oven top when it's hot without gloves Wash up a scrub all you see is suds You so dusty now that we done we gotta clean the tub (dirty niggas) Steam from the gun released the wrinkles from your cheap-fitting tux Talked so greasy, B, he was obviously drunk (must be fucked up) Deep in the game, my Adidas is stuck I'm no mind reader, my G, but I could see what's to come When I spoke redeemed, this the holy Ghost 'cause I believe I'm speaking in tongues I'm leaving blood on the sheets I'm reading from Bob and weave cause the key's not to get beat to the punch Chop you though, all you see is pieces and chunks Looking like the toppings you eat at pizza hut Ain't no sweeping me under the rug like the secret you tucked (you ain't low) You think it's love then motherfuckers sink their teeth in your grub (eat your food, nigga) To keep it a buck I been greedy, I done feasted enough Shots of tequila and Puerto Rican rum Off the reefer I caught a decent buzz The street I'm from, it ain't all peaches and plums You either a bum or you keep what the fiends want in your sneaker tongue (uh) All we got is us In God we trust, nigga All we got is us In God we trust, nigga Somebody help me (Lord) talk to 'em, shit realer than ever Somebody help me Let this shit breathe, please believe it Somebody help me (Uh) beautiful Somebody help me (Uh) build it up Pimpstead, nigga (Uh) Marcberg, nigga (Uh) Nahimean? I'm back bitch, I'm back in this bitch And I'm mothafuckin', I'm flexin on these hoes (yeeah) Pimpstead, nigga, let's go They want the real back Nigga that's real rap Feel the wrath Sprayed you with the blick, flip your raft Shit made a big splash Mad ripples in the river like when the wind bad Listen kid I was chilling when I got wind of that I had the window cracked, It's lit Don't let the wind blow out the match If we clash, bet you don't win no match You can't do shit with me like a bitch with no ass Off the rip to itch for them stacks that we had The kid needed scratch like a Brillo pad The bag look like a pillow fill with cash (stuffed it) Puerto Romanos, wore the diamonds, three quarter water moccasins I wore these to the Oscars, pimp For these bottles I had an ostrich killed The guts of the Mazzy was looking like chocolate milk (ill) I'm keeping it funky like monkey lice These little ugly motherfuckers don't want me to shine Like the Sun in the sky in summertime That's forever not just some of the time These other guys yet to even measure up to my thigh Tryna thrive, I felt your funny vibe You wonder where your underlings slide when the money dry Caught 'em in Queens riding through Sunnyside Shit they lucky they ain't on Sonny's side They getting chicken it's not Kentucky fried, buddy We make salah to be comfy but money's not my God (We make salah to be comfy but money's not my God)