Luyện nghe bài hát On God

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

My got grams, my bitches got checks
Just counted another hundred, you look stressed
I'ma smoke a pound and break the rest
Niggas iffy, got my glizzy, I just a vest
I to God that I don't 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 list for
Mazzetti or the Porche just to
Honestly, I could have bought niggas
Traumatized, I know how a corpse feel
I stand over your casket, sure that you gone
We and run in houses when nobody home
If you put out a hit, gon' copy your song
If you diss me on a record, we follow you
Uh, what it do? What's
I ain't got to it out, I throw this shit right through my hoodie
I be on the stage with the fully, I got all in my pocket, gettin' jail calls from bully
30 trappin', I'll never forget bush
Cocaine on my side, forever get cooked
Promoter with the Yolla, gon' get booked
Kidnapped 'em for paper, whoever gon' get took
On God, threw my up on the freshman cover
Real niggas by me, I can't stand to suckers
I just found out got a leather bubble
Go to sleep with my chain on, I need an extra
I'm the one in the Lex coupe, out in a sweat suit
Hoodie strings tied tight, run up, stretch you
The plug tried to call me, up like,