THE WRITERS GUILD

Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Mykael V & Parris Chariz] Look how far God done brought us (Slick) And y'all think I'ma look back? We done worked too hard for this (95) God always [Verse 1: Parris Chariz] Woke up on a Monday, got busy, I had to eat Heaven waitin' on me, I'm tryin' too hard to breathe It was only right I had to fight to live a dream Make it to see my junior or die bein' a king My brother is on my shoulders, I point 'em to where the food at Compared to many rappers, I had to go get the truth back Could never say I'm nothin', I gave my baby a new bag Let me talk, this the writers guild, it ain't a script read You should think about your words, just not your lip speed (Exactly) Gainin' from me, this the top shot (Hold on) I ain't even choose to be this smart, it just dropped out Crеflo water, I need a jetski for thesе expeditions (What else?) If you wanna get the best slick wave I need an extra million Come and talk 'cause we got extra game, overtime If it's urgent for you then just press the nine Tom Cruisin' in the Fusion, they sayin' that this impossible Satan's angels wasn't optional (Right) Man, how you don't drink pop but sold lots of coke? And how you gon' give top but won't speak hope? Damn, what a time Another year inside this hell gon' be a homicide I've been prayin' through all my anger like it's Ramadan And started writin' just to pass the time, God [Interlude: Denzel Washington] There's a saying, when the devil ignores you then you know you're doin' somethin' wrong Conversely when the devil comes at you, maybe it's because you're tryna do something right [Verse 2: Parris Chariz] My momma moved me out the hood before could ever throw my life away (Yeah) I prayed for life today (Right) You got two cellphones, I called you twice today (Hello?) I'm thinkin' 'bout rollin' the dice You talkin' that sugar and spice Ah, but I'm too seasoned Can't play them game no more, I grew up with a few demons Why we harder than them? I can think of a few reasons (One or two) You take the stage, I'm with the shooters in the pew preachin' Pack it, I'm tryna smoke the meat They really only call me the wave 'cause what I wrote was deep Please, let me surf in peace I'm tryna be comfortable like the Huxtables I lean back like Bill when they was cuffin' him Damn, what a time Another year inside this jail gon' be a homicide I've been prayin' through all my anger that I'm keepin' inside The writers guild, P-M-C, and God (Yeah)