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Yeah, uh, woah Yeah, uh, woah. yeah Hit the pavement jack What you say to that Life is getting kind of boring Bring the haters back Where my angels at Where my traitors at Yeah, If heaven is a party Publix caters that Woah Y'all get paid to act I do it free of charge Now everybody's looking around Like who put me in charge I got unreleased records that'd Probably top the charts I'm bad at keeping secrets though So now it's on to living large I'm super serious You're too delirious I'll always be the cutest but won't Keep up with appearances Yeah I guess the pearls turn heads then Had them for a while I don't burn through trends, man You might think you're cute But you're not no ten ben Unless you loving Jesus That's a whole new lens, friend You should do that I love meeting new people But I'd rather have the crew back I post the record on my story Knowing that they knew that Like, David dropped a single Oh my goodness Can you queue that Oh my goodness Can you queue that? AC broke because the heat was Turned up Aw shucks Go to church everybody knee skirt Shirt tucked Did it hurt? Did what hurt? When you dove, like a dove Out of heaven up above I carry chairs, she in love I'm a gospel rapper I rap for Jesus He will always be my king But I'll respect my caesar I'm not really a salad guy But color me a pleaser I stay drenched in bleu cheese Because I'll never know when I Could meet her I'm an optimist Who's in my prime like Optimus You think that's cap? Well here's a number For a good optometrist I'm saying Three oh five, two two zero Six eight nine four Hit me up, go ahead I mean, why not I got my hands in the sand I'm not talking Miami I didn't say toes because That's kind of nasty I'm not even joking Put those dogs away Kathy I know where you live and I swear that I'm packing I'm kidding I'm kidding I don't got a gun But I hope that you know In those chancs you can't run And even if you could I'd still go for your son Or your brother Your mother Your daughter Your cousin Your grandmother, grandfather Give a grand hug to Your granddaughter Next time you got to wear sneaks To the barber I used to like you, but now You a martyr Speaking of barbers I got to get cut So I go to the gym, like six Seven times A week? Nah a month I ain't no chump I don't need wishes But I just spoke to 'Gene And he told me I'm gump Man what a pump Not coming down like I'm stuck in my jump Not coming down like I'm stuck on the sun Your jaw's on the ground And the song isn't done Yeah I'm already in all your top five And I started this song on an Off night So I get that it kind of is alright But the praise be to God hold the Cross tight Yeah I'll pack out arenas Just like I'm a Curry Can't see it, I'm Cena Your vision is blurry A jack of all trades So I'm not in a hurry A jack of trades So I'm noted like wrthy I'm saying Whew