All Praises Westside Gunn (Ft. Boldy James & Jadakiss)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "All Praises" by Westside Gunn (Ft. Boldy James & Jadakiss). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
A-A-A-A-Alchemist
[Chorus: Westside Gunn]
All praises (All praises)
To the most high (To the most high)
Haven't been asleep (Brr)
I heard shots all through the night (Brr, shots all through the night, brr)
Be grateful (Be grateful)
Wrong or right (Wrong or right, ah)
Just hung up a collect call
They tryna give my nigga life (Tryna give my nigga life)
We gracious (We gracious)
We tasteless (We tasteless)
We made it (We made it)
We made it (We made it)
[Verse 1: Boldy James]
Four hundred bands on that new Rolls Cullinan
Fifty on my wrist, had to dap 'em with the other hand
Gettin' money hand over fist, almost upped on him
Damn, just a fan who want a pic
Ridin' dirty through New Orleans with them yams and them grits
Up the thirty in the morning, we be jammin' on the strip
In the trap with the blow and the pills, weighin' up a split
They think I rap, streets know I'm still playin' with them bricks
Still known to keep a Sig, still laid up in the six
Stashin' in your BM crib, still payin' bitches rent
King of the drug zone, felt betrayed when niggas switched
Seen many come and go, niggas came and niggas went
What else? Live at the main event
Palm Angels on the tee, five eighty for the drip
Burberry, no buckle, LV on the kicks
Naked lady on the Royce, big Bs on that Ben thing
A-A-A-A-Alchemist
[Chorus: Westside Gunn]
All praises (All praises)
To the most high (To the most high)
Haven't been asleep (Brr)
I heard shots all through the night (Brr, shots all through the night, brr)
Be grateful (Be grateful)
Wrong or right (Wrong or right, ah)
Just hung up a collect call
They tryna give my nigga life (Tryna give my nigga life)
We gracious (We gracious)
We tasteless (We tasteless)
We made it (We made it)
We made it (We made it)
[Verse 1: Boldy James]
Four hundred bands on that new Rolls Cullinan
Fifty on my wrist, had to dap 'em with the other hand
Gettin' money hand over fist, almost upped on him
Damn, just a fan who want a pic
Ridin' dirty through New Orleans with them yams and them grits
Up the thirty in the morning, we be jammin' on the strip
In the trap with the blow and the pills, weighin' up a split
They think I rap, streets know I'm still playin' with them bricks
Still known to keep a Sig, still laid up in the six
Stashin' in your BM crib, still payin' bitches rent
King of the drug zone, felt betrayed when niggas switched
Seen many come and go, niggas came and niggas went
What else? Live at the main event
Palm Angels on the tee, five eighty for the drip
Burberry, no buckle, LV on the kicks
Naked lady on the Royce, big Bs on that Ben thing
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