21. 1st Song/Step

[Hook:]
Shake that body, party that bod!
Shake that body, party that bod!
Shake that body, party that body!
Come and have a good time with G.O.D!

[Verse 1: Pusha T]
I believe, there's a god above me,
I'm just the god of everything else,
I put holes in everything else.
"New God Flow," fuck everything else.
Supreme dope dealer, write it in bold letters,
They love a nigga's spirit like Pac at the Coachella.
They said, Pusha ain't fit with the umbrella,
But I was good with the 'Ye as a wholesaler.
I think, it's good, that 'Ye got a blow dealer,
A hot temper, matched with a cold killer.
I came aboard for more, than just to rhyme with him,
Think '99, when Puff woulda had Shyne with him.
(Matching Daytonas, rose gold on us)
Goin' H.A.M on the beats, done took a toll on us.
(But since you over do it, I'mma pour more)
Well, if you goin' coupe, I'm goin' four door.

[Hook: x2]

[Verse 2: Pusha T]
Step on they necks till they can't breathe,
Claim they five stars, but sell you dreams,
They say, death multiplies by threes,
Line them all up and let's just see.
Fuck em, 'Ye, fuck em, 'Ye!
I wouldn't piss on that nigga with Grand Marnier,
(Woo!) They shitty shoppin' at Target,
(Woo!) My shit is luxury Balmain. (Ay!)
I'm ballin', Amar'e,
A nick sold in the park, then I want in.
What's a king without a crown, nigga?
What's a circus without you clown, niggas?
What's a brick from an outta-town nigga,
When you flood and you can drown, niggas?
Here's the G.O.O.D. Music golden child,
M.A. dollar sign, can't nobody hold me down?

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Kanye West]
Hold up, I ain't trying to stunt, man,
But these Yeezys jumped over the Jumpman.
Went from most hated to the champion god flow,
I guess, that's a feeling only me and Lebron know.
I'm living three dreams:
Biggie Smalls', Dr. King's, Rodney King's,
'Cause we can't get along, no resolution,
Till we drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston.
Cars, money, girls and the clothes,
Aww, man, you sold your soul,
Naww, man, mad people was frontin',
Aww, man, made something from nothing,
Picture working so hard, and you can't cut through,
That can mess up your whole life, like an uncle that touched you.
What has the world come to? I'm from the 312,
Where cops don't come throughm and dreams don't come true.
Like there the god go in his Murcielago.
From working McDonalds, barely paying the car note,
He even got enough to get his mama a condo.
Then they ran up and shot him right in front of his mom.
40 killings in a weekend, 40 killings in a week,
Man, the summer too hot, you can feel it in the street.
Welcome to Sunday service if you hope to someday serve us.
We got green in our eyes, just follow my Erick Sermon.
Did Moses not part the water with the cane?
Did strippers not make an arc, when I made it rain?
Did Yeezy not get signed by Hov and Dame?
And ran to Jacob and made the new Jesus chains?
In Jesus' name, let the choir say!
"I'm on fire, ay!" that's what Richard Pryor say.
And we'll annihilate anybody that violate,
Ask any dope boy you know, they admire 'Ye.

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, nigga, y’all had my, I had my Jesus piece since ’94,
I don’t know what I, I don’t know what y’all talkin’ ‘bout,
And my eagle – still got it all in the bag, b,
All I did was play possum.
Yo, come on!
Six hundred Cuban cigar in the big tub,
Medallion on, Dove soap on the fresh cut,
With soap suds on the MAC-11,
My big lion haven’t ate since twelve,
And it’s after seven.
We feed the nigga like forty chickens,
His tail wag when I send him a bag with just one victim,
Uh-huh, now let me show you what my closet on,
Gems in the display case, call it a rock-a-thon.
I got soccer moms payin’ for cock,
Asians get it from behind while they cleanin’ their wok,
Comin’ with flows that’s toxic,
Deadly fumes when I’m in the room,
Repercussions occur when you dry snitch.
Red light, green light,
One, two, three,
Look, mean, got my machine;
Cried and hit you, please.
Say, shake that body, scar up that body,
Should I kill him now, Ton?
I said, “Probably”.
Side bets are four and better,
Bust hammers with pot holders,
And, yo, dead a cow for his fuckin’ leather.
I’m not bow-legged but old school like Redd Foxx,
My favorite color in my hustle days was red tops,
My gold eagle arm shitted out a red rock,
Threw it off my project roof, saw red dots.
Kanye, shine a light on my Wallabees,
You can have a good time with G.O.D.!

[Hook – x2]

[Outro: Kanye West]
G.O.O.D. Music! G.O.O.D. Music!
G.O.O.D. Music! G.O.O.D. Music!
And all my niggas say, "G.O.O.D. Music!"
And all my ladies say, "G.O.O.D. Music!"
I don't know, but I've been told,
(I don't know but I've been told)
If you get fresh, get all the hoes.
(If you get fresh, get all the hoes)
I'm way fresher, than all my foes.
(I'm way fresher, than all my foes)
Somebody, please, pick out they clothes.
(Somebody, please, pick out they clothes)
And all my niggas say, "G.O.O.D. Music!"
And all my ladies say, "G.O.O.D. Music!"
Who runnin' shit today? G.O.O.D. Music!
Who runnin' shit today? G.O.O.D. Music!