Pastor Troy
JAYHOVAH
[Intro]

[Verse 1: Jay Gudda]
How many times you gonna f**k me up?
I've been taking it light, but now enough's enough
You gonna stab my back or gonna cut me up?
Please hurry it up, I got a nut to bust, and I'm sick of talkin'
Any more lip, you can kiss the coffin
Any more sh*t, you can lick the faucet
Talk to me, b*t*h, just skip the gossip, mister cautious
Everybody know I overthink the raps
I ain't droppin' nothin' with a finger snap
'Cause everybody think it's a thing to rap
But ain't nobody really wanna bring the crack
Where my thinkers at?
Everyone wake up and just smell the coffee
Sorry Double-A, I'm tryna tell the zombies
I keep hearin' everybody talk Givenchy
But back then you were Abercrombie
This is why you all make me sick
B*t*h, take advice, or you can take the d**k
My girl's a bird, I gotta raise the chick, and I hate the b*t*h
Don't like this sh*t, then don't play this sh*t
Everybody 'round here got a game to quit 'cause I came equipped
And me and my brother gonna pray for this, like

[Hook 1: Jay Gudda & Pastor Troy]
Dear God
Can you please help me tip the scale? (Yeah)
I know I gotta lock it down
And I know they wanna ship the bail (Yeah)
It don't take a lot to drown
But I'll do anything to prevail (Uh-huh)
I got a lot to prove and a lot to do before I kick the pail (Yeah)
But dear God
I don't wanna be around the game (Yeah)
And I don't like these rappers because everybody sound the same (Uh-huh)
But if you're by my side
I know that everything is bound to change (Yeah)
I think I found a lane (Hey)
Get the f**k from around the lames (Come on)

[Verse 2: Jay Gudda]
How many times you gonna lie to us?
I gave it a minute, but now time is up
You're all some b*t*hes that still ride the bus
And tell your b*t*h I don't got time to f**k
And close the caption
I do not f**k with these local rappers
I do not trust any local rappers
And I am not just any local rapper, I chose a Jackson
Everybody else gotta play the back
Only one in my state that'll state the facts
I'm throwin' out bait for the snakes and rats
Every one of y'all fake, I don't take it back
And I came for blood
Don't like the flow, then come paint the rug
I don't like a hoe, but I date a ton
If you'd like to know, b*t*h, I ain't the one, and I hate the love
But I love the hate because it got me this
No pot to p*ss, but got lots of piff
Can't cop a brick, but I can top a fifth
My page nice, Stojakovic, no stoppin' this
Give a Rasta b*t*h whole lots of d**k
I will not admit who really taught me this
But just know every night I pray to God for this
[Hook 2: Jay Gudda & Pastor Troy]
Dear God
Can you please help me tip the scale? (Yeah)
I know I gotta lock it down
And I know they wanna ship the bail (Yeah)
It don't take a lot to drown
But I'll do anything to prevail (Uh-huh)
I got a lot to prove and a lot to do before I kick the pail (Yeah)
But dear God
I don't wanna be around the game (Yeah)
And I don't like these rappers because everybody sound the same (Uh-huh)
But if you're by my side
I know that everything is bound to change (Yeah)
I think I found a lane (Hey)
Get the f**k from around the lames (Come on)

[Verse 3: Jay Gudda & Pastor Troy]
So, what the f**k is up? (Dear God, dear God)
What the f**k is up? (Dear God, come on)
Don't think that we're done 'cause we ain't though
We ain't done 'til I say so or Sue's son got a halo
I look into your face, see a rainbow
And lately I've been feelin' like Rambo
I rather sit in heaven than a Lambo
I'm nine eleven with the ammo
R-I-P to the fam though, killin' in camo
I'm the mothaf**ka that you hate to like
And you're mad as f**k, but you take the pipe
Say you baggin' up, but you ain't the type
F**k famous life, I'm tryna change my life
You don't like this sh*t, then don't play this sh*t
Everybody 'round here got a game to quit
And me and my brother gonna pray for this