[Intro]

[Verse]
What's a non-believer to a God?
Nigga, that's a dead man
Wake up in the morning, say a prayer, get the chopper off the dresser
I ain't never been a scared man
Cause scared money never made nann
And trauma made a pussy nigga break dance
I turn water to wine I'm in control of the time
Nigga I'm one of a kind, most of these niggas is blind
Nigga, I'm GOD
Speakin' through the eyes of a dope dealer
Speakin' through the eyes of a broke nigga
Dread head niggas from the nine
Baby in the dining room cryin'
Mama in the kitchen fucked up
Semi-automatic still tucked
Run up on some action, I bust
Catch a nigga lackin, I bust
Ain't a motherfucker around me I trust
I'm GOD
I had a dream that I robbed Donald Trump, nigga
Tied him up, threw his ass in the trunk
You want beef, I'll treat you like my lunch, nigga
You gassed up, I'll catch you at the pump
Introduce you to my pump
Make a nigga see the light: Thomas Edison
Fuck ten steps, I'm ten miles ahead of ya
I remember we was on the block sellin' medicine
Influenced my niggas
Changed the way we was livin'
Bout to make me a million
Most of my niggas is chillin'
I chop the work in the basement
Then put the bank in the ceiling
Your life and death is in my hands, don't make me make a decision
I been a real motherfucker since birth
I been killin' these niggas since Earth
I'm checkin' these niggas like the first
Make a nigga praise GOD, no church
Traded in the malt liquor for the black bottles
Traded in the thot bitches for the black models
GOD came first, nigga Money Black followed
Fuck wrong with these niggas?
Goddammit, motherfucker, I'm GOD
In the flesh nigga
How you better than the best nigga?
The best feature of the future is the past
Treat my first dope sale like it was my last
If you gettin' money then you know I'm on ya ass
Run up in your house, take the cash, leave ya body in the stash
Expose me a nigga, no flash
We the holders of the light, these days are the last
Muhfucker, I'm GOD
But the devil still test me
Stay in yo' lane, why the fuck you wanna test me?
Writin' all my rhymes on a Money Block canvas
Streets of the Chi full of Money Block bandits
Truck fulla coke, rental car from Avis
Mama tried to tell me that my rhymes could save us
My cup runneth over, I ain't even pourin'
Heaven or Hell, nigga tell me where you goin'

[Outro]