Texty: Pastor Troy. Face Off 2. Gone Getcha.

Gone getcha hype, gone getcha crunk, gone getcha buck, nigga (x 8)

Verse 1
Now let's pray lord have mercy, help 'em God
Pastor Troy baby, and I'm coming hard
Had to sit back and see tha big picture
Probably in the back seat bustin' me a Swisha
So how I getcha?
Huffin and puffin and cussin' over percussion?
Out the back field 2,000 yards rushin
I'm struttin, I'm cuttin, spinnin, I'm jukin
Gotcha girlfriend on the side-line lookin (Wassup, baby?)
It's all a game, but the winner is the one who maintain
They all know my name i'm the heavyweight champ
I rock the belt and got some killers on my camp
This drank done got me amp it got me ready to shut the club down
Take it all the way, for a mothafuckin touchdown,
Let's clown
Dancin in the endzone, I'm lookin good, I'm lookin strong
Pastor Troy 'bout to getcha buck, tell them hoes it's on (Yeah!)

Gone getcha hype, gone getcha crunk, gone getcha buck, nigga (x 8)

Ok, If you came to get buck throw it up (Throw it up!)
If you came to get buck throw it up (Throw it up!)
EASTSIDE!!! (Eastside!) WESTSIDE!!! (Westside!)

NORTHSIDE!!! (Northside!) SOUTHSIDE, HO!!! (Southside, ho!)

P.T. baby, I came to get crunk
I'ont get low, I'ont ATL stomp
All I do, is come through in the clutch (In the clutch)
Kick Atlanta shit, back Atlanta shit up
Them suckers took a real low, motherfuck a dutch
I'd rather grab a mic and grab my nuts
I got it in cruise control, I got it set
From Colli Park, bout to hurt a known in the Dec
All over Zone Three and Zone Four
Every set that you claim, I got a ho; you know
She ready!
Probably got more balls than you
She ready!
Hey, there boo, what they do
The Pastor, after me, there'll be three
Two that ain't there, and one you can't see
It's just me, the PT Cruiser
I'm independent, and bout to do ya
And it's...

Gone getcha hype, gone getcha crunk, gone getcha buck, nigga (x 8)