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What it do Ouu Tobe, what it do baby? On God, I got the juice Tobe Bryant Me, I'm Paul Wall Frazier On God, I got the juice I got the juice, I got the juice like I pushed Bishop off the roof Nell, what it do? Sam Canell Lanell Sprewell Aye, aye, aye, aye It's that Paul Walrus, I got a lot of monikers Fresh from Santa Monica gettin' blowed like harmonicas That smoke got me harmonious, I'm so gone like Monica Blowin' backwoods only, the only papers is Houston Chronicles A Hall of Fame hustler, voted unanimous and anonymous But boys be actin' animus 'cause my presence is rather ominous Not to mention my pockets are fat as a obese hippopotamus I avoid hate like obstacles, talkin' down is so monotonous Them boys couldn't see me through they oculus with binoculars I'm still the people's champ, yeah my pseudonym is synonymous I like to stack up lots of bucks while you chasin' after octopus I'm married to the game so it's easy to be monogamous I'm never fallin' off, the mere notion is preposterous SongtexteStill In my prime like optimus, used to pop trunk at Metropolis The grind is rather arduous but I ain't stoppin' 'til the apocalypse 'Cause I do it for my family, not the likes nor the followers Paul Wallaby On God, I got the juice On God, I got the juice I got the juice like I pushed Bishop off the roof I-I-I got the juice like I pushed Bishop off the roof I hit up Paul and told him that I want gold in my mouth So when I speak, all day shine off in my teeth, light up nouns That's a person, place or thing, swear I'm diverse in ways I bring Bales of manna with country grammar, sweet as a tangerine I follow a Nazarene but I still might paint the Hyundai candy 'Cause I'm modest but be honest, I got more sauce than shrimp scampi I go ape, I go chimpanzee on every beat that they hand me I've been branded as the man who gon' handle my hood advancement Out the slum, I ain't dumb, I know you plotters be peepin' But my head down and my arms cover my paper, it ain't no cheatin' I'm eatin' plus I got all the flavor, I'm lowkey seasoning Woe are those who willingly done gave their heart to hoes I was told by the G code that that's fleeting On God, I was broke for over thirty seasons Now me and Fat in our thirties 'bout to be in Norway Like some melinated Norwegians If a rapper stiff as me, he prolly ain't breathing That's rigor mortis, I hope y'all absorb this, flow gorgeous How I'm teaching Flow freezing, I'm the coldest in my region Y'all decent but if I'm critiquing, y'all feces It ain't nothing personal, lies kill And if I die tomorrow, my wife and my whole hood know I'm real On God, I got the juice (Too real) On God, I got the juice (True and real, trill) I got the juice like I pushed Bishop off the roof (They talkin' 'bout? Juiced up) I-I-I got the juice like I pushed Bishop off the roof (Aye juiced up, got all the juice) I'm still breakin' boys off from the North to the South I got gold in my grill, I got diamonds in my mouth I'm still breakin' boys off from the North to the South I got gold in my grill, I got diamonds in my mouth No toll tag, I still stunt hard on the feeder With a baby in the backseat and a bad mamacita Block bleeder, stackin' Keebler, God bless me, I'm a sneezer Shakin' off haters like seizures, countin' paper in my leisure Flow water, Aquafina, nah, I'm lyin', that's acidic I spit Fiji but if need be, I'm a ocean like Pacific My slab look like an exhibit, all the boppers want to visit My interior's butter biscuits, I'm the greatest to be specific Dog, that's explicit, hella vivid but my flow magic like a wizard I'm with Paul, hell, all we need is a color-changing lizard Now hold up Tobe, that's expensive, that's my brother though, no tension Matter fact, go tag Chamillionaire in my mentions, let's get it On God Aus Songtexte Mania