Chamillionaire - True Religion Lyrics

They say I know you donÂ’t do the freestyle thing no more
But since you do it better than somebody else
Well, you know! For show!
You know I gotta keep itÂ… though!
Oh, mix-tape God, go!

I know IÂ’m not God, thatÂ’s blasphemy
The good is I donÂ’t have to be
While I would turn to a beach resort
And kick you all out and live happily.
YouÂ’ll see how rhetoric these rappers be
Like I get out of shore, bus after three
Get Instagram, take pics with guns
Snitch on your cell, youÂ’re reach at theÂ…
No stitching Â… cause IÂ’m different fan
No Twitter cam, I donÂ’t need to mention
They always told me that money talks
ThatÂ’s who I wanted to pay me attention!
IÂ’m young done, never went to prom
Genius kid that wouldnÂ’t leave detention
When the teacher said that IÂ’d never blow,
I said, “don’t count my pockets till you see my pension!”
I was plotting moves,
I was carving scriptures into the desk.
That was middle school,
So track down the desk and figure out the rest, oh yes!

I must confess, I see you, but I am not impressed!
I see along the side talking cash
They done talking when they see me in flesh.
CanÂ’t cut your tongue, and cough up the lung
JustÂ… at your hands and then hold your breath
If I want opinions I ask for that
Just stay in your boundaries, donÂ’t overstep!
Back on the porch, we sat on the steps
While we all argued about whoÂ’s the best.
And now I sit behind suicides
With AC on I came fresh to death.
They ainÂ’t stars, these rappers good for like 8 bars
Rappers looking for like 8 balls
Get in the pockets, then take all!
These activist ainÂ’t active to me
AinÂ’t standing up for your fake cards.
Most of yÂ’all suspecting me
As a pastor that just bought 8 cars
To mix-tape God, you mix-tape frauds
Make sure you hearing this carefully
Even if you know that we was cool before
You ainÂ’t got to come and give death to me!
Â…let them know you donÂ’t have to be
A clown next to clowns cause thatÂ’s ratchet D.
You could rap the motto and own the masons
WouldnÂ’t give a damn about your fashion, G!
You own the brand, you just come to me
What you saw before, you Â…
YouÂ’re a grown man, why grown man?
Staring at the logo and reading on some pains
You ainÂ’t made a man, you couldnÂ’t make the pen
I donÂ’t pay for likes, I donÂ’t pay for fans
I wonÂ’t buy your music, cause youÂ’re popular
Cause youÂ’re acting like youÂ…
I say youÂ’re not!
I donÂ’t believe you, thatÂ’s superstition!
You say youÂ’re high, I know youÂ’re not
Go and prove it to me, go to this mission
Go dodge in hot gasoline
Go pump some gas without even flinching!
If you make it back, then IÂ’ll play your raps
I wonÂ’t tell your family I thought you was missing
Gave you the game, I thought you would listen!
YÂ’all got t it twisted, like a Jewish Christian
I taught you how to dismay your labels
When they told you about it, they showed some kissing
When you tell the truth, youÂ’ll say you was distant
WhatÂ’s being dope got to do with stitching?
Stay true when theyÂ’ll praise you
And thatÂ’s what a hell I call true religion!

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