Luyện nghe bài hát On God

(I'm on LA time. 6am flight.) I figured i put out somethin' this shit dropped (P2). [?]

My got grams, my bitches got checks
Just another hundred, you niggas look stressed
I'ma smoke a pound and break the rest
iffy, got my glizzy, I just found a vest
I pray to God that I die tonight
We gon' make somebody cry
Them niggas you, they ain't ridin' right
Ain't got no to hate on nobody, I got a life
Bitch, I'm on the Forbes for real
Mazzetti or the just to chill
Honestly, I could have bought deals
Traumatized, I know how a corpse really
I stand over your casket, make sure you gone
We flocked and run in houses nobody home
If you put out a hit, they copy your song
If you me on a record, we follow you home
Uh, it do? What's goodie?
I ain't got to pull it out, I this shit right through my hoodie
I be on the stage with the fully, I got grams all in my pocket, gettin' jail calls from
30 trappin', I'll never forget bush
on my side, forever gon' get cooked
Promoter with the Yolla, forever gon' get
'em for that paper, whoever gon' get took
On God, threw my up on the freshman cover
niggas by me, I can't stand next to suckers
I just found out got a leather bubble
Go to sleep with my on, I need an extra cover
I'm the one in the Lex coupe, out in a sweat suit
strings tied tight, run up, I'ma stretch you
The plug to call me, hung up like,