Verse 1: Pastor Troy

These n***as asking how I choose to die
Just like a muthafucking G is my only reply
Hi 7, Mac 11 with the shoulder slang
Crank me up, bitch I'm gunning killing everything
And my veins pumping nothing but this thug blood
Maybe blue n***a, till I'm through n***a, yeah
Situation got a n***a bout to self-destruct
Better tell them n***as I don't give a fuck
I make money, n***a money doesn't make me
Guess that's why all these weak n***as hate me
And lately I been letting a bunch of shit ride
But fuck that where my muthafucking forty-five

Hook 2x: (We Ready in background)

I sold my soul to the devil for a small price
I walk through muthafucking hell screaming thug life
And I was asking everybody where the devil hang
I got them n***as with me they be talking gang bang

Verse 2: Pastor Troy

My head gone, cause I been on this earth long enuff
In this land of little trust
Where all my models and rubs, till I been bottled and brewed
And it's been provin' that it ain't shit to prove
I move about a gram a so, but clientele won't grow
Until all them basers know, that I keep that butter
A new face runs shop with me, said she need a 30 piece
But I can't do shit because I think she's undercover
My brother doing fed time, so I move nickels and dimes
Praying when he comes out I can break him off
He taught me all the game, make them boys find our name
But from point blank range show them fuckers we ain't soft
I lost about a dozen of my cousins, homicide
How the hell am I supposed to hide the fucking hurt
The many tears I cry, understanding me I tryed
Then my cousin came to me and said coz go to work
Now I'm grinding
My timing, perfect, pick a mack and me some clothing
The corner stores, the ski masks, the forty-fours
Run up on 'em so slick, and get my pistol and click
Give me the muthafucking bag or I'm gone buss yo' shit
Now I came up, a fifteen thousand dollar lick
Yeah Red Mouth, the Pastor need about a brick, and now it's on
Strictly, quarters or grams
Them down south georgia boys done blew up on all ya'll haters
Hook 2x: (We Ready in background)

I sold my soul to the devil for a small price
I walk through muthafucking hell screaming thug life
And I was asking everybody where the devil hang
I got them n***as with me they be talking gang bang

Verse 3: Pastor Troy

I fill my mind with weed, uh
I can't believe my congregation is testing me
Retailation would be less than me
While praising me in my face
Shit these the same muthafuckers trying to take my place
I hate to waste yo blood and leave ya church clothes filthy
But believe I will do it without feeling guilty
Let's understand though the Pastor, I'm still that n***a
Praising the Lord for blessing me with nica triggas, and laser beams
And my team, my original team, killers and bandates
Try your best to understand it
N***a respect, I demand it
I feel its mandatory
I'm popping on these n***as as I give the Lord the glory
Like David, My slang shot human made
Fuck whirling rocks, n***a my n***as got handgrenades
Who payed?, I have layed my life on the line
Cops pulling grind, got the Pastor dodging one time
Signs of holy wars
Touting magnum forty-fours, and forty-fives, mac 11's
There's a hundred ways to die
Up in the mist, surrounded by these evil men
Got to stay hi'
Grab the pistol and I let 'em fly, just like hulk
So what, I thought you would've never done
N***a you did it and death will be the outcome
I sholl hate it but I put up with it long enuff
Ashes to ashes, and dust to fucking dust
Go head and buss
Hook 8x till end: (We Ready in background)

I sold my soul to the devil for a small price
I walk through muthafucking hell screaming thug life
And I was asking everybody where the devil hang
I got them n***as with me they be talking gang bang