God's Plan

[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]

Step up in the spot, sizzle it to death

Always leave a mark like when the metal hit your flesh

Blessed muhfucka, everything about me fresh

Every time we do this shit, we doing it to death

We getting money too, this shit don't make no kinda sense

(Pop!) Make 'em run until they hop another fence

When I'm in the building, niggas know I always got 'em and

The way we keep on winning, how the fuck you gon' stop' em?

Bitch my money long, thicker than a waffle

Y'all know how we do it, everything colossal

Thirty karat diamond pinky ring look like a marble

I don't mean to startle, making bitches argue

Put it in your mouth, stop the yapping, and gargle

Take over the whole shit, never do it partial

Fucking up the building till they call a fire marshal

Drop another classic, add a chapter to the novel

Pop a couple bottles, fuck a couple models

Rev it to the point where niggas bust open the throttle

You think you got a pot of gold? Got a couple potfuls

Could give a fuck about your shine, bitch I got a watch full

[Hook: Busta Rhymes]

Them boys hot bitch, aw man

Make sure the penthouse suite got a ceiling fan

See, when I win, it's like it's God's plan

And when they see it, got these niggas saying "God damn!"

Shit changed nigga, chain hang nigga

Every time we drop, see how the shit bang nigga

We buzzing in the street until the shit sting nigga

We profit every time, that's why we rich, lame nigga

[Verse 2: J-Doe]

I'm bout my paper, I'm bout my dough

I keep my watch face twenty below

Bitch it's only three things you need to know

All three is "Can't no one fuck with J-Doe", aye

I'm getting moolah, I'm getting cash

If I say "hi" to her, she give up ass

I got a Ruger, don't make me blast

My flow is too hot, why y'all listening to trash?

Aw yeah, I'm a beast lil nigga, off the leash lil nigga

I just bought a car that you can't even lease lil nigga

Don't reach lil nigga, just retreat lil nigga

Cause you looking like a muhfuckin' feast lil nigga

[Hook]

[Verse 3: O.T. Genasis]

Aye, okay, wrist look Rollie, charm look trophy

Top three rappers: O.T., O.T., and O.T

.45 on me so my shirt look pokey

Buss that muthafucka till that barrel get smoky

Diamonds Tropicana, got a bag like I am Santa

It's like 50 bitches wit' me and they all in my cabana

From the West Coast where these niggas throw they sets and wave bandanas

If that's at your neighborhood, you will go nail down from the hammers, I

Ride through any nigga hood in them GTs

No Bloods, Pirus, CCs

Selling Os, and I don't mean CDs

360 diamond chain, Butterfinger BBs, yeah

[Hook]