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letra de on god - bic fizzle

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[intro: gucci mane]
tay keith, f-ck these n-ggas up (ha)
(fizzle, go)

[verse 1: bic fizzle]
designer, my body on focus
really been runnin’ up commas, you notice?
right on the block where i’m posted
how he a trapper, play sports and a poet?
1017, i’m with wop and them boys
fizzle’ll mind it, but far from the boards
still in the hood, goin’ fast in them tours
straight out the woods, hear that sh-t in my voice
step in, step out, one feet in the industry, one in the trap
backside i’m stretchin’, i’m d-gg-n’ her out
teach you a lesson, that just like the math
calculate, pound after pound after pound
re-up, i get ’em gone outta town
feet up, step on a n-gga, he frown
so icy fizzle, the talk of the town
on god, i’m from the bottom, i beat all the odds
i watched scammers get rich off fraud
glock .43 front seat when i ride
lean to the side, after robbin’, i slide
straight out the jungle, that youngin survived
that hunger and hustle, it’s stuck in his eyes
switch on the bl!ck, now it rapidly firin’
claimin’ they step, but n-ggas be lyin’, on god
[verse 2: cootie & gucci mane]
feelin’ like the man when i step in
ridin’ in the trackhawk, you know i keep the fn
ice all over my neck
make you wanna find which car had a wreckin’
ol’ girl thick as my drink
let her come chill in the trap with the dope man
tell the lil’ n-gga, “don’t play with me”
n-gga, i’m the boss, you the motherf-ckin’ doorman
know i got drip like a sink
b-tch, i’m with guwop, i might just go buy me a mink
n-gga, i don’t cap, i trap
before the deal, i had that ice on my link
put this sh-t all in my mouth
so icy my grill, n-gga might freeze up the drink
n-gga reach for it, he’ll die
b-tch, i’m a soldier, i should go buy me a tank
move like a top boy, you ain’t a real trap n-gga
move on your block, make it real, real hot
granny like, “boy, what’s wrong with that phone?”
gotta turn the ringer off ’cause it never, ever stop
know i make the hotline bling
bust down cartier, know i had to freeze up the watch
mvp of the trap, n-gga might pull up to the spot with a bust down pot (go)

[verse 3: gucci mane]
gucci mane the real la flare and we do real big business here
i turn men to millionaires, leave with two gold souvenirs
coke all in my fingernails, all white like some nouveau nails
i trapped out my younger years, my mama shed so many tears
eatin’ two too many pills, he don’t even know how to feel
try to meme us, don’t wanna live, brains all on the steering wheel
guwop, i’m a valley boy, but not from that cali, though
bouldercrest my addy, ho, this sh-t just like dekalio
n-ggas never play with me with all them f-ckin’ local jokes
my plug don’t even speak no english, b-tch, this ain’t no local dope
got the type of millions, make your kinfolk start trippin’
the way this money flippin’, got my shooters ridin’ bentleys
[outro: bic fizzle]
(on god)

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