Crisis

[Intro: Big Hit]

(Jansport J)

It's a struggle, my nigga

(Hit-Boy)

[Chorus: Big Hit, DOM KENNEDY, Big Hit & DOM KENNEDY]

How can you believe in Christ in a crisis? (Yeah)

How can you hold onto life, feeling lifeless?

I finally seen the light

On that five point seven, when I squeezed that night

I heard the words from my reverend

[Verse 1: DOM KENNEDY]

I don't do much but stack chips and write hits

Get streamed by your bitch

Put smoke in the sky

Bumpin' do or die

I run the enterprise

Wagyu with the fries, champagne on the side

I'm rubbin' on her thigh, I forgot how we met

If we did do a scene, it'd be ratеd triple X

I like Mary J. Blige, gеtting a great massage

It cost a few hundred if you wanna see me live

Every time I see a car lot, I go inside

It's crazy that I got my own label like Clyde

It's crazy that I got my own label like Ja

You know I had a life before you, girl, why you cryin'?

[Chorus: Big Hit, DOM KENNEDY, Big Hit & DOM KENNEDY]

How can you believe in Christ in a crisis? (Yeah)

How can you hold onto life, feeling lifeless?

I finally seen the light

On that five point seven, when I squeezed that night

I heard the words from my reverend

[Verse 2: Big Hit]

I don't do much, the kid just layin' in the cut

Ain't no love lost, you see me with the thang clutched

Nigga try to catch up, where I'm goin', ain't no fun

Where you goin' ain't no guns, ain't no hatin', ain't no lovin', ain't no zaza

No Hennesy, no Blood, Crips, no enemies

My frenemies act finicky, on L gang, I'm went in, G

Hit-Boy and Big Hit, yup, we in this bitch

You addicted to that real hip-hop, come get your fix

He grew up in bull spittin', I grew up in hard phrases

Gut clenchin', heart wrenchin', burnt out on blood spillin'

Stay on the mission, what the fuck I got to live for?

Huh, I guess the same shit that I kill for

[Chorus: Big Hit, DOM KENNEDY, Big Hit & DOM KENNEDY]

How can you believe in Christ in a crisis? (Yeah)

How can you hold onto life, feeling lifeless?

I finally seen the light

On that five point seven, when I squeezed that night

I heard the words from my reverend

[Verse 3: The Game]

I don't do much but yank the 911 clutch

Feel like I'm above the law, word to my nigga Big Hutch

I don't do much but fuck bitches you can't touch

The ones who pussy so good, you let 'em leave hair in your brush, uh

Pour some Don with my nigga DOM

Like Big Hit's last bid, shit, it done been some time

Let the Daytona spin like the shrooms

That a bunch of bad bitches took in a overcrowded room

I don't do much but smoke Gelato

Shiesty on like I'm hidin' from my family and just won the lotto

Heard Cardi single, I might slide, full throttle

If she never see it, fuck her, the nigga really wanted Latto

Live my life on the edge, broken bottles

Draco leanin' on the wall like I'm from Southside Chicago

But I'm just a Compton nigga with a attitude

Rappin' over my sixtieth Hit beat, that's Nip's gratitude

[Outro: Big Hit]

Yeah, Big Hit, DOM KENNEDY, The Game, nigga

Hit-Boy on the beat, killin' shit as always, haha