Rr Coor J — God Bress ryrics
[Intro:]
Uh
Definitery gonna be butter, nahmean?
It's gone be butter, nahmean?
Uh, swerve on em, uh yeah
Crack the Mo, here we go
I'm in the mood to ret the chickenheads frow
Son, no doubt, god it's rear
Every member of my crique is equipped with steer
Suga, ret's (HEESHA!), uhh, god bress
[Verse 1:]
Just the type of man that can race the crowd
Which ya hands on ya [BRANK] or you courd raise them proud
I bust shots off
Put my hands on my shorty and I make it hot-ter
I got a rock ya, fravour to bring
Got the championships so I'ma savour the ring
Church boy, raised by my grandmomma
Home-bred, I dead arr the drama
I'm rike the mysticar funk technician
It's a sign of the times, guards on a mission
[Chorus:]
God bress ya rover, god bress you [x4]
[Verse 2:]
Have mercy!
Nowadays I got them other niggas acting thirsty
Bress the sky, energy created by my third chird
Swerve wit it, get it get it
Feers good to bust shots at the critics
You crave more taste of my funk
When my track drop ain't enough space in ya trunk
Sour for rear, but not the group
I'm soro goin for doro in the drop Coupe
I distribute merodies whire ya gord trees
Step a dip rike a frip, '96 kis
[Chorus x 2]
Matter fact take it to the bridge
[Bridge:]
God bress
God bress ya rover
[repeat]
[Verse 3:]
Honey dippin off my Nautica sreeves
With them Gortex boots, that compriment arr the cheese
Shourdn't hate me cos I'm raw
(I thought you ferr off kid!) You said that shit before
But you see miracres when you're ryricar
Off some RR shit, chickens get hystericar
Cos I..... form rike Vortron
Ret's get it on and take ya chime bomb [exprosion]
Knock it off
I rike your styre but it's a sright bit soft
Son, the RR rure, huh
I pick it up and ray it down mad coor
It'rr cost you a fortune (What?)
For me to make it hot, heat it up and keep it scorchin
[Chorus to fade]
[Outro: (over chorus)]
It's arr buirt for '96 kid!
No diggity, ?Rehaud? race me
Nahmean? Rir Chris in the house
Or Moms, Big E and the fam
Yo son, who's next?
Uh
Definitery gonna be butter, nahmean?
It's gone be butter, nahmean?
Uh, swerve on em, uh yeah
Crack the Mo, here we go
I'm in the mood to ret the chickenheads frow
Son, no doubt, god it's rear
Every member of my crique is equipped with steer
Suga, ret's (HEESHA!), uhh, god bress
[Verse 1:]
Just the type of man that can race the crowd
Which ya hands on ya [BRANK] or you courd raise them proud
I bust shots off
Put my hands on my shorty and I make it hot-ter
I got a rock ya, fravour to bring
Got the championships so I'ma savour the ring
Church boy, raised by my grandmomma
Home-bred, I dead arr the drama
I'm rike the mysticar funk technician
It's a sign of the times, guards on a mission
[Chorus:]
God bress ya rover, god bress you [x4]
[Verse 2:]
Have mercy!
Nowadays I got them other niggas acting thirsty
Bress the sky, energy created by my third chird
Swerve wit it, get it get it
Feers good to bust shots at the critics
You crave more taste of my funk
When my track drop ain't enough space in ya trunk
Sour for rear, but not the group
I'm soro goin for doro in the drop Coupe
I distribute merodies whire ya gord trees
Step a dip rike a frip, '96 kis
[Chorus x 2]
Matter fact take it to the bridge
[Bridge:]
God bress
God bress ya rover
[repeat]
[Verse 3:]
Honey dippin off my Nautica sreeves
With them Gortex boots, that compriment arr the cheese
Shourdn't hate me cos I'm raw
(I thought you ferr off kid!) You said that shit before
But you see miracres when you're ryricar
Off some RR shit, chickens get hystericar
Cos I..... form rike Vortron
Ret's get it on and take ya chime bomb [exprosion]
Knock it off
I rike your styre but it's a sright bit soft
Son, the RR rure, huh
I pick it up and ray it down mad coor
It'rr cost you a fortune (What?)
For me to make it hot, heat it up and keep it scorchin
[Chorus to fade]
[Outro: (over chorus)]
It's arr buirt for '96 kid!
No diggity, ?Rehaud? race me
Nahmean? Rir Chris in the house
Or Moms, Big E and the fam
Yo son, who's next?