Give You to God lyrics
by Chris King
[Chorus: Chris King]
223's loaded in the cartrage, [?] handheld [?]
6 of Wok inside a vinilla cream, now I can't stear proper
[?] beans, she got [?]
Wanna bet it all, bet it on my team, [?]
I take the top off the foreign like it's off with his head
[?] look like a monster that's under the bed
That percocet, it got me nauseous, I can't feel my legs
This chopper on me, proseed with caution, I put you to the red
I push a button, this b*tch gon' [?] tank full of [?]
I'm smoking runts, I'm rolling 8, while I listen to 9
I'm clutching Glocks and I'm generous, I give you to god
I'm clutching Glocks, I'm feeling generous, give you to god
[Verse 1: Chris King]
Baby bottles full of codeine, but ain't no high chair
Choppеr threw his body in the air, with no flight wear
Unclе, Auntie was a dope fiend, but still I care
Knuckle up, now they [?] they don't fight fair
Westside, California heat with the dry air
Westside, everything in your dreams, you can buy here
Yes, I smoke a pound of weed till my eyes tear
Bet I get a milli in a day, I sign [?]
[Chorus: Chris King]
223's loaded in the cartrage, [?] handheld [?]
6 of Wok inside a vinilla cream, now I can't stear proper
[?] beans, she got [?]
Wanna bet it all, bet it on my team, [?]
I take the top off the foreign like it's off with his head
[?] look like a monster that's under the bed
That percocet, it got me nauseous, I can't feel my legs
This chopper on me, proseed with caution, I put you to the red
I push a button, this b*tch gon' [?] tank full of [?]
I'm smoking runts, I'm rolling 8, while I listen to 9
I'm clutching Glocks and I'm generous, I give you to god
I'm clutching Glocks, I'm feeling generous, give you to god
[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
Five seven, open up a b*tch stomach, it's a [?]
Freaky bad b*tch didn't wanna f*ck, I let my mans pop her
Had to stop f*cking with the white, I had a [?]
Put a Spanish b*tch on the strip, and make some bands off her
Sniper gang, one shot'll leave a n*gga [?]
[?] snotty nose [?] now she feel [?]
Pop a n*gga in his sh*t about my b*tch, I'm not Will Smith
[?] thousand blues, it's a field trip
Blood walking on a n*gga b*tch, with my toes on
He skating down the street, shot him in the [?], make [?]
[?] sitting in the garage, I brought the Roles out
Supercharge [?] when it's snow out
[Chorus: Chris King]
223's loaded in the cartrage, [?] handheld [?]
6 of Wok inside a vinilla cream, now I can't stear proper
[?] beans, she got [?]
Wanna bet it all, bet it on my team, [?]
I take the top off the foreign like it's off with his head
[?] look like a monster that's under the bed
That percocet, it got me nauseous, I can't feel my legs
This chopper on me, proseed with caution, I put you to the red
I push a button, this b*tch gon' [?] tank full of [?]
I'm smoking runts, I'm rolling 8, while I listen to 9
I'm clutching Glocks and I'm generous, I give you to god
I'm clutching Glocks, I'm feeling generous, give you to god