Preach

Lyrics

[Intro: Propain] (D-D-D-DJ Zaytoven) Forever Trill, forever spill, nigga (Zaytoven) Pro' [Verse 1: Propain] First thang first, where your money, bitch? Hundred thousand strong, excuse the stunt shit Where I'm from, it's either rap, or hit the Trump with bricks And 50 Cent, you either die, or you get fuckin' rich, ah These shoes don't cut my tips too much, lil' bro But these shits was old to me six months ago Fuckin' legend, boy, go ask your bitch, you can't fuck with Pro' Ironic, dog, I've been high so goddamn long, I'm fuckin' cold Ghetto dreams, nigga, diamond rings Money, hoes and clothes, and all the finer things But I salute success, nigga, not designer jeans You Ferragamo with no comma, get your ass around from me Lil' mama throw that ass just like a quarterback Got that pussy drippin' like a sauce attack I'm spittin' crack, bought the brand and called her back The ghost of Big Steve, Fat Pat, Mo, I'm all of that Came from the bottom, got it poppin', fuck a label I'm the label, if he rockin', I'ma sign 'em Back then, they were knockin', chickens talkin', I should stop it Now them same bitches boppin', clamin' I'm they baby papa, fuck? Same nigga on and off the camera roll Still got them dreams to open Phantom doors But now I'm in that coupe, I'm in that G, bitch, I ain't payin' no note Drop the top, the doors off, strippin' like it's Amber Rose Hiram Clarke's man of hope, feature five grand or more Rockets game, we stand on floors, it's feelin' like I am the coach Ballin' 'til I'm Hammer broke, you pussies is Ann Nicole Ain't no hoes in your phone, your crib, nigga, and your shows Dead end, doors up on the Benz, nigga, and it's cold You lame, and everybody in your motherfuckin' family know It's major, for real, rap became the saviors Splash time, lil' bitch, catch the flavor, Propain [Interlude: Sosamann] That nigga said, "Strip that shit like Amber Rose" Double S-O just smoke a whole bunch of motherfuckin' gas And you get a whole motherfuckin' bunch of cash, woah, woah Double S-O, woah, woah, woah, woah, ooh Talk for motherfuckin' Sauce, my brother spittin', woo I'ma tell these nigga somethin', uh Woo, woo [Verse 2: Sosamann] I don't fuck with these niggas, boy, they flaky Hol' on, Double Sos, I been brazy I sold a whole lotta crack, like the '80s And young nigga run the trap, I ain't lazy Woo, and guess what? I ain't runnin' game Ask my lil' brother, he say I moved a hundred thangs Uh, and all this shit I'm talkin' the truth Everything I spit is fact in the motherfuckin' booth, woo I'm on fire, talkin' hot, like a fuckin' flame Double S-O, bitch, Sosa, that's my fuckin' name TSL, DBG, that's my fuckin' gang Man, I lost a feet gamblin' on the game But that shit ain't nothin', I'ma keep on stuntin' Kickin' shit, Double So, like I'm fuckin' puntin' Lil nigga, you ain't touchin' nothin', you ain't gettin' money You ain't countin' hundos, you ain't ridin' foreigns The word around the city, boy, you drive your mama car When I was sleep in my dream, I was sippin' bark And they ain't made that shit sin by ninety-five I buy a whole zip, a ten piece get me high I'm Double So takin' trips around the world Knockin' all these pimp girls, buyin' diamonds and these pearls, woah I done got the fuckin' curl for the girls, oh Oh, now I done put her in a swirl, woo Now her mind all gone, man, that shit lost I hear a lotta niggas in the city talkin' soft But really, if you ain't tensed up then you lost And boy, I been catchin' plays more than Randy Moss The syrup got me in the daze, leanin' on the car And if a nigga play with Sosamann, I knock him off Woo, and I'm really from the street You ain't sold a fifty pack, let alone a whole sheet, damn [Outro: Sauce Walka] As I run through the valley of the salty waters of death Lord know that the only thing I could do is protect myself All this sauce on me came from from TSL My enemies wanna rob me for my wealth But I can't let that happen, oh no, oh no You know I one of my goon hittas start cappin' Ooh, and it's the way it's gon' have to happen, yeah See my mama ain't raise no flunky And my daddy didn't raise no junky So when I go buy diamonds, they can't be monkey Oh no, that's true I can't do that foo-foo like him, him and you Uh-uh, baby, that ain't the way it's gon' be We gon' grind for it, we gon' shine for it Fuck around and be like Rick James, and go blind for it Ooh-wee, I'm Sauce, baby Put your hands in the air and be annoited with the flavor Sauce man Ooh-wee