Don Trip - God Speed Lyrics

God Speed Lyrics by Don Trip

(Hook)
I’m still on my job
I got work to do until my mom can quit her job
Put it all on me, maybe I won’t let it starve
RIP to Lil Paper, I turn back around and rap pull
All the hate in this world, and my word and my balls
At the moment both my balls getting borrowed by yo broad
Got a fully loaded pistol, with my back against the wall
If it’s me against the world then I plan to take em all

(Verse)
You lil niggas too soft, cotton balls
I ball
Cotton ball with top cash shit
That’s all I know
Spit game so sick I might stuff yo nose
High, I’m fly with a flock of hoes
Let the bitch ride me, she love control
Been 14 months since I shitted on niggas
So pardon me while I drop a load
These lil rappers got way too comfortable
Boy you’re sweeter than Jana’s jungle juice
Hit yo block, with all these drums
Yo labels would think a parade was comin through
Call yo bitch like baby I’m comin through
She like “oh, okay, I’m wakin boo”
I’m so sorry if you think I’m savin you yo chances of Shawty
Then these is daisy dudes
I’m too great to lose, so fly, I just flew the coupe
Great hair, yes I’m getting O’s
Still getting blow like chicken noodle soup
Who gon stop me? I’m still waitin for a candidate
All these busters swear they riders
Until they ridin in the ambulance
I’m more wealthy than I ever been
The sex is sweeter than gelatin
I’m bout that body and all my closets got choppas inside and not skeletons
I stick to that money like it’s magnetic
I’m saving my heart for miss Halle Berry
I live life faster than Kyle Perry
Your money’s funny and Malcolm the edit
Make you disappear, Malcolm the edit
Fresh out the jungle, Serengeti
May God look after the unlucky bastard who left with the hassle to come and get me
Woo! Me so arrogant, me no give no fuck
Pop quiz, who the shit?
Alright, pencils up
Where my competition?
Oh I wish I’m loved
Cus I don’t give a shit and I’m not givin in and I’m not givin up
Rock the game plan, alright stick em up
Fuck yo feelings until I get enough
All that money still I can’t get enough
Count so slow, Shawty I’m not in a rush

(Hook)
I’m still on my job
I got work to do until my mom can quit her job
Put it all on me, maybe I won’t let it starve
RIP to Lil Paper, I turn back around and rap pull
All the hate in this world, and my word and my balls
At the moment both my balls getting borrowed by yo broad
Got a fully loaded pistol, with my back against the wall
If it’s me against the world then I plan to take em all