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heaven's gates wit section 8 - quincey white lyrics

[intro]
i had to realize, like
i don’t even be in the studio every day no more, you know?
like workin’ on my craft, like, really, really
but when i really sit and realize, like
this ain’t from, like, repetition, this is, like, really god*given, you know?

[verse]
the internet’s the drug, we chasin’ the love
so high off the likes, it’s makin’ us numb
can’t even party without thinkin’ ’bout takin’ a slug
no ovo, but, bro, i had to sneak drac’ in the club
like an underage aubrey
grams of thе pure white girl, she a blondiе
mixed with the soda while she turn my people zombies
can’t recruit her, a man like kunta, so it’s probably
some ignorant n*ggas middleman to distributors
booked for many cases, but never could read the literature
they can free your body, but mentally, you a prisoner
you want your cornbread? ’cause i’m finna scr*pe this chili up
but that’s light
they cut the rope before they reel you up
they’re beatin’ down our kings like the lapd billy club
homie, i’m a trophy, consider me memorabilia
this that art that can auction off for billions
yet still can relate with your everyday civilians
heaven gates with section 8 is what i’m buildin’
you can’t relate, you better spin this until it’s drilled in
so deep in my bag, been pullin’ my hand out for years, my fingers still in
godd*mn, what the f*ck happened?
it seem like everybody stopped rappin’
i know we in a new era, but quit cappin’, please?
you gon’ make me grab an organ for these rats and fleas
been tryna turn over a new leaf
but every time i open up my pad, it’s dead rappers in my looseleaf
he say he a beast, he get a two*piece
now all that’s left to see is all these gold*plated chains wrapped on carcasses
these metaphors like c*ck and aimin’ fifths, exploding cartridges
decimate ’em, shoot ’em, stab ’em, tase ’em, leave no parts of them
if it’s smoke, then it’s gon’ cost a lung and you gon’ cough it up
i ain’t no haggler, but the flow is marvelous, ugh
[chorus]
one day, we gon’ stop livin’
’til then, i’ma give it to you raw and i won’t stop givin’
my all to you
this sh*t is a religion
standin’ on the soapbox, preachin’ to the children
like malcolm up in harlem, teachin’ ’em the vision
and if you’re with me, put your hands to the ceiling
lord, could i get a witness?

[interlude]
now praise god, hah
if you’re with me, raise your hands up
this tabernacle, church, hah, ahh
yeah, lord
heaven gates with section 8, open ’em up
for the ghetto to walk in
mm
forgive me for my sins
and if i don’t know where i’m goin’, please lead me to
to the win, hah
pass me my gin

[chorus]
one day, we gon’ stop livin’
’til then, i’ma give it to you raw and i won’t stop givin’
my all to you
this sh*t is a religion
standin’ on the soapbox, preachin’ to the children
like malcolm up in harlem, teachin’ ’em the vision
and if you’re with me, put your hands to the ceiling
lord, could i get a witness?

- quincey white lyrics

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