Preacher on a Sunday Morning

(feat. Pooh Bear)

Kilka, kills mania

Get used to this one

"crack"

Scotty

Oh yeah I'm back on that shit

And I say right about now New York City

They say is life and death, there's no future fronting

I see a mac and a tec keeping duz coming

Coka

Joe is a fake Cartagegna

Nice with the hands better with the banger

Guns I'm no stranger

Keep an A.K when I battle probably throw a fake nigga parade. I'm known!

But who gives a fuck I don't care

Don't lead them let the welfare feed them

Niggas had me thinking that Joey is fucked up!

Skiddles with the maybachs banging rooftops

Life sucks for you maybe the Jew is crazy

In the stay pieces to death thanks to who baby

[Chorus:]

Stay cleaned up on a preacher on a sunday morning, I got cake but I need more ice and alle

I say off the streets I'm a symphony, niggas want my sympathy presiding official remedy

Stay cleaned up on a preacher on a sunday morning

King of New york, King of New York, but we don't ever see these niggas up in New york

Can anybody tell me where's St. Tropez

All these so called killers try their best to dress gay

Everybody beefing it's the same old day

All these mixtape rappers now want to claim king

Everybody saying they are bringing New Yor back

But we the only niggas you pitch back the back(crack!)

You hear the echo, son of a nesto I'll let the tec blow

You should feel sky plenty like pistol, fuck a phone call I barely got a whistle, nigga

[Chorus]

Coka, there's no one harder

Get off your knees get a job at the carter

Throw a banks and invite your friends

Yougarentee to see a couple of ends

See I've been getting money since who knows when

These other niggas just all pretend

You've been bamboozled diz duzu say thugs

Love at madison square they givin group hugs

Now let me take you to the streets of darkness, where I keep your favourite mc underneath my armpit the bronze kid

I'm only speaking the truth

Shit, look what these streets

May cologilua do

[Chorus]