Testo Spread The Opps - Lecrae
Testo della canzone Spread The Opps (Lecrae), tratta dall'album Church Clothes 4: Dry Clean Only
We on top, we got love, kill the opp
We on top, we got love, kill the opp
Holy Father, God in heaven
Show Your power, let it come
For Your Kingdom and Your honor
To Your Spirit and Your Son
Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out
Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out
Ooh, I think they hate me (yeah), in my Bape tee (woo)
Ain't no pardons in the garden if you snake me (yeah)
You can't break me (uh), tryna chase me (yee)
When it's rocky, I move ASAP, you can't Drake me (shoo)
I'm fine, I got my feet up, I ain't never scared, don't put my heat up
I was outside and tryin', no re-up, where my opps at? God gon' eat up
They ain't ever free us
Lock my family up, my mama told the judge, "He ain't no killer"
It's all good 'cause on that prison yard he preachin' 'bout the Healer
Spread the opps out (woo), now the cops out (sheesh)
Facin' death, you wanna plead but you can't cop out
Now you locked out, I promise my God comin' back, when He do, it's a problem
Got His attention but you don't want tension
You don't want the smoke, it's too late, you done got it
Holy Father, God in heaven
Show Your power, let it come
For Your Kingdom and Your honor
To Your Spirit and Your Son
Spread the opps (out), spread the opps (out), spread the opps (out)
Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out
What's your intentions? I see your screws and your wrenches
You tryna break up the bi'ness, ruin my witness
Spreadin' yo' lies and opinions, you don't deserve my attention
You's a pretender
We was so used to the cold and my mama gave birth to a winner
Put all the opps on alert then we out in the trenches
And demons do not get forgiveness
Pray for repentance for all my family that's sinnin'
I ain't the truth, I'm a witness
I got some blood on my hands and some dirt on my fingers
You know that I gotta go get it, I gotta go get it
Lord, help me kill all of my demons, I look in the mirror, I seen 'em
I had a BM, I forced her to get an abortion
I pray when I die, I can meet Him
They want me cheatin', tellin' me open my DMs
Eat all this fruit that I'm seein'
I got some people in prison, I need to go see 'em
If it weren't for the Lord, I would be 'em
Yeah, I know they won't catch me lackin', see me off in traffic
Yeah, I'm packin', got that oppa-stoppa apostolic ratchet
'Bout that action, keep them .223s but Jesus my assassin
If you askin', I'm still 116 until I'm in a casket
I see my opps tryna pop out (woo), they wanna pull every stop out
Wait 'til my God spin the block and He let up in shots
He gon' air every spot out (doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo)
Holy Father, God in heaven
Show Your power, let it come
For Your Kingdom and Your honor
To Your Spirit and Your Son
Spread the opps (out), spread the opps (out), spread the opps (out)
Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out
Credits
Writer(s): Le Crae Moore, Lassana Harris, Alexandria Dollar, Robert Gullatt, Kendrick Alloway, Deandre Hunter, Aidan Crotinger, Brice Sibomana, Rogers Clayton, Juan Ramon Melian
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