Pope vs. Pontiff

[Verse 1: G Count] Jumped off the porch and got married to the streets young without a pre-nup Go to war make it where you can't go to the corner store for three months (Yeah, yeah) Deers in the headlight, I make 'em freeze up When they see the titties hanging out the bottom of the fifty Please don’t make me start squeezing on this D-cup Talking double tap, I'm all over the field like a running back Make em run up in your crib while you at the kitchen table cutting through the bubble wrap All the dirt that I do for the cake but damn look what I do to the face You see these diamonds shining on my Audemars like the stars on the roof of the Wraith Rich niggas so you know you don't wanna do shit with us But all along guarantee that G quick on the draw like a stick figure Boss I demand all the respect, so address me in a nice tone And this cross that's hanging off my neck big enough to crucify Christ on Thumbing through this cash, I'm getting money [?] the dash, two hundred and twenty 'Rari running like a track team, in this mac green like a bottle of Remy Chicago is in me, I remember being down in the icky Choppas here in the [?] elevator crawl space [?]ready to build in broad day K9 chasing niggas in the projects like a rabbit in a dog race [?] pockets of the Balmain, always stuffed with the bankroll The white bitch in my bathroom she snorting powder off the face bowl Meanwhile the hitters on the other side of town riding around with the dracos[?] [?] And they sipping lean, and they pill poppin Gotta bag but I will hit a stain[?] just to see if I still got it Nylon on the face, potato on the firearm of my gunsmith It’s the pope versus the pontiff [Verse 2: Pusha T] King Push, long time coming Let's go I cannot tell a lie Twenty-six five for the pie If Quavo still got it for seventeen-five then he gotta buy Otherwise t-shirt is white and I got your size I never sold enough records in rap, do not be surprised The difference between you and I, for you this is do or die Is keeping you alive, but my doors are suicide Wraith slammed with the roof looking like it's space jam, woo Hermes on that orange bag matching spray tan, wait Trying to find OJ the juice man I think I'm OJ the juice man My chickens still fly the coop man He took that money and deuced man Cocaine, cocaine Couldn't have been a no-name If you was really getting money It's hard to shake that old thang My youngin sniff a gram or two White girl Xanadu I hate to have you owe me money Then ending up on Channel 2 Local news, local crews Don't mean much when you global Electro slide at the White House Back when Hilary was hopeful Now I'm back at my white house Drug dealers eating tofu This Ace of Spade that I’m holding Trumps you all, let me show you Show you Show you Show you Show you