[Lyric] Hand of God (Kris Hendrix)

I'm riding with some killers
Chasing all this scrilla
Mouth's a loaded pistol
Got some hoes in Arden Villas

My exes are still texting
'Cause damn they miss the feeling
But you know that it's the next thing
That's gon' keep this n wheeling
But that's only if she's willing man

CHORUS
This the hand of God
It's all in the hands of God
Yeah, this that hand of God
Genuine to the soul
This ain't no damn facade

I'm looking like Mufasa
My leather is getting hotter
I'm just staring at Madusa
Put all this trust in this Allah
Praising only to the most high
The most high almighty dollar
We the renegades of funk
Yeah that Afrika Bambaataa
Dun ti wine, shake that ass
We want all that oochie wally
See your girl is trying to holla
It all started with a follow
She ain't mad, I ain't mad
But I wonder if she swallow
All this knowledge that I'm spitting
Ivy League, Ivy League
Windsor knot wearing little n since the age of three
Focused on these obstacles
And all these haters right beside of me
Mama Mia let me breathe
Papa let a n seize
The day that he can be grateful for all these opportunities
The black Oscar Wilde
I'm the Urban Aristole
I'm a god, I'm a god
And I'm glad that you acknowledge
That I'm grinding for this paper
I ain't talking 'bout no college
I ain't have to finish college
To buy this condo right on Collins n
CHORUS
This the hand of God
It's all in the hands of God
Yeah, this that hand of God
Genuine to the soul
This ain't no damn facade

I can't wait to get a Bentley
Maybe a Lamborghini
Doing 30 in a 60
Yeah n I know you see me
Got these n trying to be me
They better wish for a genie
While I'm sipping on this kiwi
Got females out their bikinis
And I make it look so easy
And yeah I speak it freely
I love it when she is freaky
And I love if she's a neat freak
Now just throw on some dashiki

Slow it down
Slow it down

Girl I love it when your sneaky
All these hoes just trying to keep me
But I never had a Pop to show me right
Never had a bitch that hold me tight
Never had a friend that I could trust
Never had a hoe that I could fuck
Never had the cash that I could spend
Now I got a shooter, just say when
Now I got the money, I'm all in
Bet on me, yes we gon' win
Now I'm stacking all this paper right
Twitter finally got a n verified
Now all these labels blowing up my fucking phone
Now all these females won't leave this lost king alone

Crown me bitch
Crown me like a king
And I know the fucking law
So there ain't no Rodney King
Only furs and finest foods
And a couple diamond rings
These are all the things
That make the women want to dance and sing
Every line that I spit, you better sing bitch sing
Don't make a god repeat himself
Or you'll lose everything
Every 'ting
Every ring
Every kiss
Every hug
But Tristan said it best
"We will show these hoes no love"

CHORUS
This the hand of God
It's all in the hands of God
Yeah, this that hand of God
Genuine to the soul
This ain't no damn facade...