Текст песни God Loves Violence - B.o.B

God Loves Violence

Ay, I don’t trust no pig
Cops kill a nigga in the streets
Then don’t do no bid
Oh you, Oh you, tryna keep me safe from Covid?
Used to be a poor kid, now the smoke potent
Don’t worry what a hoe did, hoe shit
Poke her in both ends
Most these niggas be rodents
Nigga, you bogus!
Pocket full of posies, nigga is roses
Niggas want contact, niggas want protest
I don’t want no peace
Niggas my sons, but I gotta be a good dad
I don’t want no beef
I don’t owe a nigga shiiiiit!
Not, not a crumb
I bet these fuck ass niggas want me to bite my tongue
They don’t like what I say
Want me to un-sing these songs I sung
But you can’t take back them bullets them police put in your son
Take it how it come, yeah
Eyy bitch
It’s Murd n' Mercy
She slurp, then burp me
Make her twerk for me then
Smoking that bluegrass
That’s perfect
Yeah I preach, but bitch don’t church me
Yall don’t be hanging with nooo hooooes
Yall like Bert and Ernie
Bitch you a bird, bitch be chirpin
Bet she gon perch, whenever I’m sturdy
Give her some ?, give her some Burt’s Bees
When she around rappers, she get real flirty
Bitch, how you 20 think you the shit?
Prolly be mad by 26
Burnt out by 31
Single with 30 sons
She think Ima take her to brunch?
Shit, I just need to hit it once
She wanna fly Virgin, I put her on Spirit
She catching the holy ghost soon as I hit it
BOW!
God Loves Violence
And bitches hate silence
The rich hate riots
But niggas ain’t compliant
I find it odd as I’m smoking on a hybrid
Okay you a mogul, what’s a dollar to a titan?
If hers a plane, I’m a pilot
I said, sometimes I’m a bed shaker
Sometimes I’m a bread maker
Don’t doubt your intelligence
Cuz these niggas uneducated
How do you sleep after all of them artists you fucked over?
Usually the nigga who robbed you
Be somebody who know you
From your own hood!
Or your family maybe
Hating behind your back
But in your face, they be animated, like
Ugh, Bobby go tough
Ugh, I got the stuff
Ugh, call out your bluff
Can’t hold me down
Cuz, as is below, so is above
Fuck off her makeup, I’m making her blush
Hahaha, Eyy
Some cows graze in the grass
I just smoke the grass
She too young to hit
I don’t want her ass
I’m going to pass
Haha, holdup
Call me, call me Kamia
From Columbia
Eastside mafia
I was rocking furs
Michael Tyson Drugs
Bite her ear Van Gogh
Ghetto Dracula
Cocaine on my tongue