I know I'm not a God, that's blasphemy Good news is I don't have to be I would'a turned the world to a beach resort Kick all y'all out, live happily You see how retarded these rappers be It's like they get off the short bus after three Get Instagram, take pics with guns, snitch on yourself, you rich athlete No snitchagram, cause I'm different fam No Twitter Cham, I don't need a mention They always told me that money talks, so that's who I need to pay me attention Young don, never went to prom Genius kid that wouldn't leave detention When the teacher said that I'd never blow I said don't count my pockets til you see my pension I was plotting moves, I was carving scriptures into the desk That was middle school so track down the desk and figure out the rest I must confess I see you but I am not impressed I see a lot of side-talking cats that ain't talking when they see me in flesh Cat caught ya tongue then cough up a lung Just stick out ya hands and then hold your breath If I want opinions ill ask for that Just stay in your boundaries don't overstep Back on the porch we sat on the steps Where we all would argue about whose the best And now I sit behind suicides with the A/C on like I'm fresh to d**h They ain't stars, these rappers good for like 8 bars Rappers looking like 8 balls, get in them pocket then take all These activists ain't active to me Ain't standing up for your fake cause Most of y'all as suspect to me as a pastor that just bought 8 cars The mixtape God you mixtape frauds Make sure you're hearing this carefully Even if you know that we was cool before You ain't got to come and give daps to me It'll let them know they don't have to be The clown next to clowns cause that's ratchety You could wrap the model and own the masons Wouldn't give a damn bout your fashion G You don't own the brand, you just clone the man That you saw before you with it on his hand You a grown man? Why a grown man staring at the logo written on some pants? You ain't made it man, you couldn't make the band I don't pay for likes, I don't pay for fans Won't buy your music cause you're popular Cause you're acting like you're moving major grams I say you're not, I don't believe you, that's superstition You say you're hot, we'll I know you're not Go prove it to me, go do this mission Go douse yourself in hot gasoline, go pump some gas without even flinching If you make it back, then I'll play your raps And won't tell you're family I thought you was missing Gave you the game, I thought you would listen Y'all got it twisted like a Jewish Christian I taught you how to diss major labels When they told you bow to they shoes and kiss 'em When you tell the truth they'll say you is dissing What's being dope got to do with stitching? Just stay true and they'll praise you Now that's what the hell I call True Religion