Sold My Soul (feat. Pastor Troy)

"Sold My Soul"
 (feat. Pastor Troy)
 I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya)
 I walk through motherfucking hell, screaming thug life (Ya)
 I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya)
 I got them niggas with me that he taught to gang bang (Ya)
 I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya)
 I walk through motherfucking hell, screaming thug life (Ya)
 I sold my soul to the devil for a small price (Ya) Yeaaaaaaah
 They don't let me in no church, so I came to you to confess
 I got a thousand thoughts on my mind and about a billion things on my chest
 What do I do? Pastor Troy, do I kill em (Aha)
 Or should I let these snitches off the stage and beat and crack their cerebellum
 Destines where I go to chill to hang around with billionaires
 We coulda fucked dude up really bad and no one would have gave a care
 Ever heard of being dropped off the side of a hundred foot yacht
 In the middle of a school of sharks in the dark
 With 2 slit wrists to a pumping heart?
 I have this on my bucket list to be the one that let you go
 And let you know that you shouldn't have never fucked with this
 And Paul found one in his own home, it's on
 Better understand I helped build everything you fucking see
 From now on any white rapper that drops has gotta go through me
 Cause it's some phonies they fake, they snitches, they snakes
 And I swear to God when I go to hell, all of their souls I'm gonna take
 Yeeaaah
 One and one G
 The Pastor Disaster Live from Hell Street
 I'm coming like a murderer
 Don't you know if you heard of the
 Way I bring them choppers out
 What the fuck you talkin' bout
 Pistol in them pussies mouth
 Bet you watch your mouth now
 Put your bullet through them fucking windows at your house now
 Smoking on some gunpowder, drinking gasoline
 I spit diesel, and sweat kerosene
 Mean motherfucker, I think I smiled once
 First time that I ever hit the blunt
 I'm pulling stunts, pulling cables on that paper
 I will rape ya, I'll duck tape ya and I'll take ya
 There will be no one to save ya
 You'll be begging me for favors
 I'll be begging for my papers
 Look at me now I'm the devil
 Please don't take me to that level
 Put the pedal to the medal
 Ain't that motherfucker cold
 It's the Pastor of Disaster and I don't have a soul
 Ok I'm mic'd in with Tennessee
 Everybody yelling out North Memphis
 17 people, 19 pistols nobody in our line gets frisked
 We go straight to the bar, fuck VIP
 Unless VIPs gotta a bar in it and liquors free for me
 Wyte Music we go hard ho, we go hard ho, or we go home, ho
 And I might just fuck around and say whatever I want when I'm in my zone, ho
 In this business if your white I really hate it for ya
 On this road your unknowingly rolling on I pave it for ya
 Your in now in my way I'm a fully automatic that will fuck around and spray
 One phone call is all it will takes and I'll have G's coming from every way
 You think you hard, you think you out
 I'll put a mothafucking hex on you
 I'm in one of the Mystic Stylez
 You hoes can't even fuck with my lil homies
 Wyte Musics in this bitch and some of you dudes are acting like these hoes on me
 You got a problem with me, partner bring it to me
 Remember 600 and 66 years before I met Paul and Juicy, Ya
 I walk through motherfucking hell, screaming thug life (Ya)
 And I was asking everybody where the devil hang (Come on)