Testo della canzone Church (Game feat. King Chip & Trey Songz), tratta dall'album Jesus Piece (Deluxe Version)
Church - Game feat. King Chip & Trey Songz
Get some chicken wings, after that hit the strip club
See my hoes, TWERK!
See bad girls be at the strip club
Good girls, they be in CHURCH!
Always wonder why my grandmother
Try to get me to go to CHURCH!
Please Lord forgive me, I'm bout to take niggas to CHURCH!
Christian Louboutins, they're my best friends
I'm bout to put these bitches to the test then
What ya callin' spikes?
What color that box?
Is that a white bag in it?
Yea? No? Hold up. Stop
You ain't bout that life (bout that life)
You ain't bout that life
You don't bounce that ass like, "Oh Lord!"
Then climb back up the pole to meet Christ
Saturday night, she twerkin it for a real nigga
These niggas hatin', I hate them niggas
Make me wanna bring back Tommy Hilfiger
I'm in love wit' a stripper, Quotin' the nigga T-Pain
Said I love dem' strippers, word to my nigga 2 Chainz
Got a leather Ferrari, Eddie Murphy pants
Ya strippin? Go on twerk it then, cause' after this.
I know this ain't the first night
Go on girl, just do your thang
Don't be actin' shy
Take a sip and just do it babe
Sittin here all night (just do it for me)
Don't waste no time girl (just do it for me)
Girl I pray that, me and you lay down
Come on baby, lay down, go on, lay down
Sooner or later, sooner or later
The way you move that ass
Go on, baby, lay down
Thicker than a Bible
I need it for survival
Lord save me!
Poppin' bands for my baby
I'mma crucify that pussy
I'mma nail it here, I'mma nail it there
I'mma mail it here, I'mma mail it there
Doin' all this sippin' Belvedere
Gotta sheriff here and a baliff here
All we missin is a judge
One night with a random bitch, and she'll burn your ass like a rug
Real niggas gon' say that, real niggas don't play that
Real nigga'll take a basic bitch, then close the trunk of that Maybach
Open the trunk to that Maybach, roll the bitch in that water
Conscience start gettin the best of you, gotta pull a ho outta that water
Try to make some sense of it, tell a ho she got baptized
Put a couple hundreds in her Trues, tell a ho to get her act right
Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance
Red bottoms will make her fuck
You broke niggas don't stand a chance
King Chip, eastside Cleveland ghetto mogul
You say, "Damn, you livin like that?"
I say, "Bitch, I told you."
Sunday mornin, extra clean, get these bitches off of him
I'mma roll through your hood, and collect my offering
Seen her wit a group of friends, damn she got the best butt
Then she turned around, lookin like Morris Chestnut
Aww, hell no, God damn. What the fuck?
Even though shit a nigga still might fuck
You can be my "Plan C", just in case my "A" and "B" can't cut
Guess what? A nigga so fresh to death, I'm decomposin'
I just copped a dope ass condo, just to keep some hoes in
What I'm gon' do with all these racks?
Damn, what she gonna do with all that ass?
That baby oil is Holy Water
Ever met a young nigga with too much cash?
Her baby daddy live by my words
Damn, she cold, she got them curves
Double parked outside of the club
Niggas like, "Damn, nigga got some nerves"
Smokin these L's in the pulpit
With OG Chuck in the cool bitch
Got ten thousand all in ones cause, damn, that ass is stupid (Haha!)
Writer(s): Jayceon Taylor, Stanley Benton, Kevin Moore, Charles Worth
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com