The Hope Testo

Testo The Hope

God Over Money baby
Aw man it feel good to say that right there
Aye yo Bizz, Datin, BUMPS, Selah, Sevin
I got y'all Yea

The old feeling is back
T top with the cold ceiling it's black
And with the low top fade
The gold chains with a blade through the taper
Got him filling the old coachilin is back
But no cuts in the eyebrows and trying to wild out
The gutter cleaned up and we out of the down spout
Stunting again mumbling out of this brown mouth
How the little lamb dying was something to round out
All the cracks and the crevices
High and in demand I was stacked with a deficit
Lying on the stand now I'm back like the Revenant
Riding for the fam and the bars
Bizz knew he had a problem on his hands ah
Back in the spot like I'm parallel parkin'
Ice cold with the caramel frosting
I knew when I was dying I was flying
To a scary Hell barking and hopping on that carry sail often
I was firing back at every nine sparkin'
Pump triggers or pump critter
Forget a box man the trunks bigger
And if you shot a couple bricks get a slump quicker
Either your finger on slick or the pumps kill ya
Ah, Soul was looking all shaky baby
And then my goal was looking at the past again
Looking like Ye not the Kardashian
But the one from the car crash again
And now I'm staying on my toes
Like I'm trying to reach the top shelf
Feeling like the body dove
Right up off the top belt, Frog splash
Chasing after gold but I'm not Phelps
Play the odds not felt or display the cards not dealt
The homies saying J you got to make it
You way up out of their league
The only way you be winning somebody jangle the keys
The way you flipping the bars like a flying trapeze
Your raps cocoa keep pushing the rock up out of your V
Like a slingshot
And I promise you get that chicken like a Wing stop
And they pay the price of admission when that ting drop
They be playing hot potato saying they things hot
But pretending what they got is real but that
Authentic bar clinic you be handing out
Holding it down for your mans like Andy up in the drought
This Camby be something greater like
Marcus up in UMASS and if it's in His wheel homie you ask
And tell'em when the Sun going down
Like the middle of December and it's thirty past six
And you shiver in the Winter
The wood cross standing with the stone rolled past
And the Devil's Hell fell no that's shiver in me timbers ah
They saying J how you think of these eclectic paintings
Your stock high in the middle of these election ratings
Homie you next greatness
Boy stop cause sarcasm my second language
And then I recognize my thorns and homie I abide in the vine
Praise God I decided in time then I decided to climb
If I was sliding I was holding the rum
When I was monkey around no opposable thumb
Bye with the woopty woop and the blase blase
Cause I was playing fine like Nia in Friday
Then I's splat now I'm running back Prodigal son
Praise God I ain't a fatherless one
God Over Money Ah!

Yea haha, Jered Sanders, welcome to the squad
God Over Money Ya
I know you just put out an album
Nobody Famous go cop that but uh
We got a lot of work to do
Time to hit the studio baby
Let's Go!