Preach

[Intro: Propain]

(D-D-D-DJ Zaytoven)

Forever Trill, forever spill, nigga

(Zaytoven) Pro'

[Verse 1: Propain]

First thang first, where your money, bitch?

Hundred thousand strong, excuse the stunt shit

Where I'm from, it's either rap, or hit the Trump with bricks

And 50 Cent, you either die, or you get fuckin' rich, ah

These shoes don't cut my tips too much, lil' bro

But these shits was old to me six months ago

Fuckin' legend, boy, go ask your bitch, you can't fuck with Pro'

Ironic, dog, I've been high so goddamn long, I'm fuckin' cold

Ghetto dreams, nigga, diamond rings

Money, hoes and clothes, and all the finer things

But I salute success, nigga, not designer jeans

You Ferragamo with no comma, get your ass around from me

Lil' mama throw that ass just like a quarterback

Got that pussy drippin' like a sauce attack

I'm spittin' crack, bought the brand and called her back

The ghost of Big Steve, Fat Pat, Mo, I'm all of that

Came from the bottom, got it poppin', fuck a label

I'm the label, if he rockin', I'ma sign 'em

Back then, they were knockin', chickens talkin', I should stop it

Now them same bitches boppin', claimin' I'm they baby papa, fuck?

Same nigga on and off the camera roll

Still got them dreams to open Phantom doors

But now I'm in that coupe, I'm in that G, bitch, I ain't payin' no note

Drop the top, the doors off, strippin' like it's Amber Rose

Hiram Clarke's man of hope, feature five grand or more

Rockets game, we stand on floors, it's feelin' like I am the coach

Ballin' 'til I'm Hammer broke, you pussies is Ann Nicole

Ain't no hoes in your phone, your crib, nigga, and your shows

Dead end, doors up on the Benz, nigga, and it's cold

You lame, and everybody in your motherfuckin' family know

It's major, for real, rap became the saviors

Splash time, lil' bitch, catch the flavor, Propain

[Interlude: Sosamann]

That nigga said, "Strip that shit like Amber Rose"

Double S-O just smoke a whole bunch of motherfuckin' gas

And you get a whole motherfuckin' bunch of cash, woah, woah

Double S-O, woah, woah, woah, woah, ooh

Talk for motherfuckin' Sauce, my brother spittin', woo

I'ma tell these nigga somethin', uh

Woo, woo

[Verse 2: Sosamann]

I don't fuck with these niggas, boy, they flaky

Hol' on, Double Sos, I been brazy

I sold a whole lotta crack, like the '80s

And young nigga run the trap, I ain't lazy

Woo, and guess what? I ain't runnin' game

Ask my lil' brother, he say I moved a hundred thangs

Uh, and all this shit I'm talkin' the truth

Everything I spit is fact in the motherfuckin' booth, woo

I'm on fire, talkin' hot, like a fuckin' flame

Double S-O, bitch, Sosa, that's my fuckin' name

TSL, DBG, that's my fuckin' gang

Man, I lost a feet gamblin' on the game

But that shit ain't nothin', I'ma keep on stuntin'

Kickin' shit, Double So, like I'm fuckin' puntin'

Lil nigga, you ain't touchin' nothin', you ain't gettin' money

You ain't countin' hundos, you ain't ridin' foreigns

The word around the city, boy, you drive your mama car

When I was sleep in my dream, I was sippin' bark

And they ain't made that shit sin by ninety-five

I buy a whole zip, a ten piece get me high

I'm Double So takin' trips around the world

Knockin' all these pimp girls, buyin' diamonds and these pearls, woah

I done got the fuckin' curl for the girls, oh

Oh, now I done put her in a swirl, woo

Now her mind all gone, man, that shit lost

I hear a lotta niggas in the city talkin' soft

But really, if you ain't tensed up then you lost

And boy, I been catchin' plays more than Randy Moss

The syrup got me in the daze, leanin' on the car

And if a nigga play with Sosamann, I knock him off

Woo, and I'm really from the street

You ain't sold a fifty pack, let alone a whole sheet, damn

[Outro: Sauce Walka]

As I run through the valley of the salty waters of death

Lord know that the only thing I could do is protect myself

All this sauce on me came from from TSL

My enemies wanna rob me for my wealth

But I can't let that happen, oh no, oh no

You know I one of my goon hittas start cappin'

Ooh, and it's the way it's gon' have to happen, yeah

See my mama ain't raise no flunky

And my daddy didn't raise no junky

So when I go buy diamonds, they can't be monkey

Oh no, that's true

I can't do that foo-foo like him, him and you

Uh-uh, baby, that ain't the way it's gon' be

We gon' grind for it, we gon' shine for it

Fuck around and be like Rick James, and go blind for it

Ooh-wee, I'm Sauce, baby

Put your hands in the air and be annoited with the flavor

Sauce man

Ooh-wee