Correction Lyrics Jesus Crack by Westside Gunn

Featuring(s) : Estee Nack & Stove God Cooks

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Lyrics

[Intro: Estee Nack]
Please don't harm this brother 'cause we love him
Yeah (Woah)
Nack Daily (Yeah)
It's a daily thing (Oh)
It's how we swing, yeah (Oh)
Give me the crown, I'm named king, y'all (Griselda)
Ayo

[Verse 1: Estee Nack]
Rocket Pack Nack damage is ambidex
Aerial attack amateurs asking questions (Que paso?)
Nigga test me, bury ya in the back, bandages (Piss you off)
Back hand slap a nigga, five finger sandwiches
Amethyst split your cap and the suede niggas had crack managers (Crack)
Slang bangin' be like a throat full of cameras, yo (Click, click, click)
Direction on the phone, can't handle the switch, codе lingo (Slang crazy)
Countin' the profit so when we brokе, Domingo hoes will mingle
When niggas' bitches come in the Rolls like Bingo, make your toes tangle (Mami)
She just wanna have fun like Cyndi Lauper (Word)
My Dominican plug lookin' at me like he gon' sing with choppers
Swing the vodka, bring the Wiz doctor (Ad-libs)
Countin' up the profits so we can split proper (Uh-huh)
Put the brick, fuck the kick-box shit, y'all out the movements (What?)
Always be in the quarters to the mathematic with lost principles
I'm makin' two out of one, decide, damn, look at y'all
You niggas talk a lot in your interviews
Recordin' giant squid tentacles (Uh-huh)
Fuck talkin', I'm out here mixin' chemicals, yo
(Know what I mean?)
(That's how we do it, we official, my nigga)

[Refrain: Estee Nack]
Yeah, seven-five just kicked, make about a thousand (Cheese, money)
Ayo, seven fives just kicked, make about a cutler base like Prada (Uh-huh)

[Verse 2: Estee Nack]
Rockin' shit, blast for a bass, made four shakes when you chase haters
Calm when you're out of touch spliff science (Stupid)
Shit, every bomb I drop, it just stay atomic (Boom)
Surviving later, be honest
You niggas better pray to Muhammad, play the game honest (Watch yourself)
Harmless niggas seen me in the promises
Since elite could tell that the predator found his target
Shoot him while he makin' Salah (Kill 'em)
Lay the eighty-five into your head, damn the carpets (Blaow)
Niggas snitching to bring you down on charges (Damn)
Walk around, limits is now mantras
Who made out the sharp, fade, dark winged up?
Money not thin, park the Benz (Skrrt)
Ballin' with minimal top space, you wasn't with us
Bust shots 'til the gym, plenty options (I got it)
Ten shots for the next God, I slam my God
God with the anthemic blickys, bombardment (Boom)
I take you niggas out just like garbage men (Fuck outta here)
You near the deep end, get ready to fall and swim
Ten shots hit the charlatan (Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, baow)
Or the penny pincher beggin' to bargain it, yo (Woah)
Fuck outta here, nigga (Fuck outta here)

[Refrain: Estee Nack & Westside Gunn]
Yeah, seven-five just kicked, make about a thousand (Woah)
Yeah, seven fives just kicked, make about a thousand (Sheesh)
(Ayo, ayo)

[Verse 3: Westside Gunn]
Ayo, Wraith gettin' dusty (Skrrt)
Don't nobody love me like my kids and my junkies
Some niggas live, some niggas wasn't lucky (Uh-uh)
Saint Michael VLONE, rips in my dunkeys
Model bitches wanna fuck me (Woo) rub my feet, chef me Wagyu
Japanese dinner, while I left, she stay a-boot
Sweetest taboo, head shot, face ragu (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
You ain't ever got Givenchy sent from Matthew, you lackin' (Ah)
Wales Bonner gloves on the MAC-10 (Brra)
Switches on the strap, Inshallah, this work come back (Whip)
And if we do, we back
My main fiend a white boy, long hair, blue eyes, we call him Jesus Crack
Hallelujah (Hallelujah)
Bullets through ya (Bullets through you)
We cleared the plate, turned into Luger (Ah)
Tesla Jeep, playin' Grand Puba (Skrrt)

[Bridge: Grand Puba]
As the jewels jingle from the hot young and single little stunt
A 40 and a blunt, that's all she really wants
But she'll spend your papes and she'll use up all your plastic
And if you swing an 'ep, you'd better wear a prophylactic
'Cause things are gettin' drastic
Push up in the wrong one, you'll end up in a casket (Slow down)

[Chorus: Stove God Cooks]
For God so loved the world, He gave us dope (Gave us dope)
For God so loved the world, He gave us cocaine (He gave us cocaine)
Dope man (Dope man), dope man (Dope)
Die rich, live fast, nine bricks in the stash
Dope man (Dope), they screamin' dope man (Ah)
For God so love the world, He gave us cocaine

[Verse 4: Stove God Cooks]
Water whip a drain, take communion on the stove, remember me (Remember me)
They soft as Bentley seats, I signed my name in cursive on the key (Haha)
I got the work for cheap, ran through it, Herschel Walker speed
He hit the glasses hard, almost burst into pieces (Woo)
I feel like Jesus leavin' Neiman's, the Balenciaga's blood burgundy
Just get the birds to me, these kilos got us lit
We went electric, stamp my blocks with the Tesla T (Stamp mine)
What's action to me? When they shoot the driver's side
And you die crawlin' out the passenger seat (Brra, bah, bah, bah)
That boy elite, eyes closed, trap in my sleep (Woo)
I brush my teeth with Ace of Spade, I spit champagne in the sink (Hahaha)
Diamond every link, courtesy of Slime, courtesy of Johnny Dang (Johnny Dang)
Tell them niggas playin' with my name, I said they pussy (Nigga, you pussy)
Look where my rookie season took me, seven bricks to book me
I went Mookie Blaylock, picked up ten birds in Atlanta
Magic with the Arm & Hammer, I got PTSD from the Fed cameras (I do)
Playin' Fred Hammond in the Lambo' (Haha)
I be everywhere you can't go
You don't love Michelle, bitch, stand on it

[Outro: Eastside Flip]
Yeah, I can freestyle for y'all
Y'all ready, y'all ready?
You ready Perry? First time ever
Right now, tell me Perry, what's up?
Huh? What?
On occasions, on occasions, I be blazin'
Hell fuckin' raisin', you know this paper
Never I be chasin', paper fuckin' chase us
Chasin' all this paper
Black bull with a black, got them shotty
Big bull with a homicide body
Thug nigga with a gentleman's swag
Mentality, I gotta get a bag
A bag, a bag, a bag like that
Thirty on my hip, thirty with the damn MAC
Talk about them guns that a little nigga had
That deuce-deuce, dawg, man, that be my fuckin' dad
Hell no, low-key got the dough
Key to my heart, pure, with the 44
Ocky be my nigga, man, that nigga really real
Fuck what you heard, dawg, we bustin' off the steel
MAC-90 with the blue beam, dawg, I'm thuggin'
Baby girl, man, I really like it, love it
Baby mama, man, she sat up and trippin'
Homicide, bitch nigga, I'm the witness

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