Many Men Songtext
von Joey Fatts

Many men, wish death upon me
Never trust a soul I go to church with my heat
Turn into a holy ghost if you fucking with me
That choppa spray and take his life away
Many men, many many many many men
Wish death upon me
Lord I don′t cry no more
I just grab my 45 by the drawer
Have mercy on me


Lord, please have mercy on my soul
Hit the graveyard and shoot his tomb because nothing's set in stone
It′s time to set the tone
Grab the chrome and fiend
Pay them bills, dead as line
Like a cell phone (Uhhh)
Niggas hate that we winnin
Poppin bottles with bitches
Chasing paper, It's a dangerous addiction
But listen
Cause money talks, they got them pies in the kitchen
Lock and load it's time to ride and shoots the eyes of a witness (uhh)
All through my hood they sayin I′mma die tonight
By that mac with no revolver solve the problem right
While I fuck the world I keep my Camden condom tight
Choppa shells divide bodies, subtract life
These niggas want me dead so I keep a hammer tucked
In case he acting up, I wish he would he′ll get hammered up
Sippin Coconut Ciroc, life's fabulous
There′s no competition, they dying to catch me slippin


Nigga I don't trust a soul
My momma said she scared but I know I can hold my own
Keep some pistols by my bed in case these niggas in my home
Leave em like Dennis Rodman Infrareds on they dome, bet they leave me alone
Don′t run from no nigga
I got problems but not one's a whole nigga
I been in these streets
Talkin slick will get your family deceased
And like a figure of speech
These semi′s will speak
I don't fuck with bitch niggas
I fuck a nigga's bitch
And I don′t chase a bitch′s nigga unless she about to make me rich
Murk a nigga if he play with my chips
Look in his eyes and tell me off for my grip
Pop him quick and get the shit over with
Pop the Cris It's a celebration, my enemies dead
And most of these fuck niggas hatin, my real niggas fed
And that′s all a nigga care about
Never stress like they on GPS, we know they worry about ya