Текст песни
Ooh!
Let me sing my song,
If you feel this shit, mothafucka, sing along!
Ooh!
This the hood Pope,
Chain hang low, red rubies and the gold.
Ooh!
Young Trap Lord,
Feel your pain, I be down for my people.
Ooh!
Drinkin' Jesus juice,
Jeans hang low, red rubies and the gold.
[Verse 1:]
And we sick ‘cause we hurtin',
Pull a chrome fifth when they murk them,
Then murk off in Excursion,
All ‘cause a nigga be lurkin'.
Big money shit we earnin',
A bunch of hooligans need churchin',
I'm the hood Pope, these my children,
And I'll be their Donnie McClurkin.
Gold teeth when I'm smirkin',
Bunch of little kids runnin' ‘round need nurturin',
Lord know that I ain't really perfect,
All of these clowns run around this circus.
Lord, please, what is my purpose
Besides fuckin' these Persians,
Poppin' these bottles and poppin' these models?
Please, tell me where is the Sherman?
And I'm smokin' my weed, put me in my zone,
Demons chasin' me ‘cause they want my dome.
And I carry the heat, and I sleep with the chrome
‘Cause I'm in some beef, and they want my dome.
[Chorus:]
Ooh!
Let me sing my song,
If you feel this shit, mothafucka, sing along!
Ooh!
This the hood Pope,
Chain hang low, red rubies and the gold.
Ooh!
Young Trap Lord,
Feel your pain, I be down for my people.
Ooh!
Drinkin' Jesus juice,
Jeans hang low, red rubies and the gold.
[Bridge – x4:]
God say, “Son, you don't wanna go down,
Now you're praying in that trap when you hear that gun sound.”
Yeah! Alright!
[Verse 2:]
And I told you, told you time again,
That ain't you gon' find your friends,
You talkin' about you ridin' with them,
And fightin' with them, those ain't your friends.
You dyin', lyin' on cement, momma be cryin', “Don't take him!
Gotta be tryin', but he said, ‘I promise he won't, ever again.'
God, he was a little child, he was a good kid for a while,
He found the streets and then it got wild, God, I promise, never again,
God, he is my only child, please awake him so he smiles!”
But all she hear is lonely sounds, now he won't talk ever again.
[Chorus:]
Ooh!
Let me sing my song,
If you feel this shit, mothafucka, sing along!
Ooh!
This the hood Pope,
Chain hang low, red rubies and the gold.
Ooh!
Young Trap Lord,
Feel your pain, I be down for my people.
Ooh!
Drinkin' Jesus juice,
Jeans hang low, red rubies and the gold.
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