B.B. Jay - Don't Be Mad (Who Da' Blame) lyrics

Yeah, Come on Blame God, blame God Thats right, come on Blame God, blame God Yeah, come on Blame God, blame God [B.B. Jay] Sound the alarm 'cuz I'm dropping the bomb B.B. Jay sanctified Don Corleon Off guard, know I caught all y'all, didn't I? Humbug, fat track, soothe you like a drug Rotate the love, I'm about to rule in a minute Graves are dug, all you gotta do is lay in it Profile of a thug is the worse like a curse You doomed you done, room enough for one Gotta pray, mad prayer-haters jealous today Its gonna take more than that for you to hinder my pray Je-sus, give 'em the praise for the great things he has done None can stop, we as one Gospel bad boy rule like Buju Banton Open ya eyes and recognize who I am son Cause of Christ I'm jiggy laced in ice Roll tighter than the vice, sanctified for life [Hook: B.B. Jay] Don't be mad 'cuz I'm fat like that Don't be mad 'cuz I'm blessed like that Don't be mad 'cuz yo' style is wack (Blame God) Who da' blame? (Blame God) Don't be mad 'cuz I'm fat like that Don't be mad 'cuz I'm blessed like that Don't be mad 'cuz yo' style is wack (Blame God) Who da' blame? (Blame God) [B.B. Jay] I'm not your average mediocre joker trying to be hard Or be God, just a brotha tryin to live the dream y'all Recall the work and the sweat, love and the debt Tears through the years and all my family and peers who got wet Regret, a lot of things Never sweat, a lot of things Understand, be the man to cause of a lotta things Diamond rings, cuban linkas, shouldn't intrigue us It's a fact crack k**s, real, we need Jesus How you feel, peel a hundred bill off ya knot Head, so hungry you can hear their stomach growl Down the block, on the real money A little money never make you hot Just like you can get money Money, you can get got Believe dat, easy like a nine to ya mind On a breezy night nobody there to shine but the street light Be like on the neutral side, representin Christ You know the one who crucified, time for change, baby Hook [B.B. Jay] When you see me flossin, whippin somethin awesome Don't be mad at fat dad 'cuz you walkin When you had a job shoulda paid yo' tithes But nah, you was too busy clockin mine Now I shine like the stratus, jokers mad at us My whole team get more cream than bank bandits G-O-S-P-E-L I'm preachin that Land Cruiser fully loaded, I'm peepin that Credit forget it, co-signer never that I want it daddy, cash and carry gimme that Twenty years po' black, now I'm phat Non-believers where they at, I shut that trap Heart attack, B.B. Jay got mad flavors 'Cuz of Jeee-sus, we just stackin paper By the truckloads, on silk sheets I doze Like the president Order what you want, I own the restaurant The capital G, O-D be the glory Uhh, universal concussion, end of story Hook