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?
Hunnid 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', clamin' 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 muh'fuckin' gas
And you get a whole muh'fuckin' bunch of cash, woah, woah
Double S-O, woah, woah, woah, woah, ooh
Talk for muh'fuckin' 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 hunnid 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