[Intro: Trent Truce]
Yeah, yeah, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets
Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets
Preachers pray (Yeah, yeah), no angels can stop all of them bullets
Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets
Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets
Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets
Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets
Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets, yeah

[Chorus: Trent Truce & Roc Marciano]
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days (Ooh, ah, ah), wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked (Uh)

[Verse: Roc Marciano & Trent Truce]
Catch you reclining on your couch sucker (Uh)
Bullets flying through your house structure
Fate taken, your white blouse rupture
My product come with gunpowder on the album cover
They couldn't have snuck it in through customs (Customs)
I'm hustling to your customers
The Cullinan coconut custard (Oh)
You broke muhfuckers
I'm blowing your cover, you ain't low, you just a frontrunner (Shit)
If rapping wasn't still fun I'd be done with it (Done with this shit)
I'm dumb with it not dimwitted
We shot it out with n***as for twenty minutes
They figure we celebrating independence (Pow, pow, pow, pow)
The chain came with the pendent
It was written that one day I'd obtain riches (What else)
Change the business (Did it)
It came late but I ain't tripping (Uh)
I'm dripping
I'm wearing water this is liquid (Oh)
I'm rocking lizard
The skin on the kicks is Hillary Clinton
The A McQueens is Queen Elizabeth
The denim was smelling like teen spirit (Ooh)
That means it's cheba scented
Is he Dominic, uh
I'm so nice on the mic it's working against me
It still couldn't prevent me from leaving shells up in Givenchy empty (Uh-huh)
The white Bentley is Christie Brinkley (Uh)
I'm in love with the benjis, I'm getting clingy (Ooh)
Maybe I'm being stingy
I went platinum on the Rollie, the APs is trendy
We got the industry in a frenzy
The MP glide through the city like a frisbee (Shoo)
These feel like scenes written by Guy Ritchie
Fired the blicky
The op dropped a bottle of whisky
I was watching through binoculars, shot the pussy
I feel like James Bond in Octopussy (Yeah)
[Interlude: Trent Truce]
Yeah, yeah, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah

[Chorus: Trent Truce]
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked
Wicked days, wicked days, wicked