I'm like an acid trip
Say roll to the rock, rock to the roll
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
I'll flash it back on ya, run it up on ya
I want the cash in hand and the beach front land
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
You perpetrate that fraud you must be out your gourd
Some get the shit, sugar, some get the stains
I'm born in Hempstead, L.I., raised in California
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
I need a dime plus more, I've sipped the fine liqueur
Than this freckle-faced man with the farmer's tan
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains
Commence to motivate, assume an altered state
Continue stackin' papers all up in my safe
With a psychotic thriller
I'm Nestle Alpine White, classic rapper's delight
My style gets rocked just like doors get knocked
Better
So get the seven digits, baby, never burn your bridges
Smoke an eighth
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains
Some get the shit, sugar, some get the stains
Better
Huntin' down crews like packs of bloodhounds
It's time to make like Greg Nice, kid, and praise the Lord
Some get the powers, love, some get the papers
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
In my lands are sounds be shakin' the grounds
Snatchin' off crowns and meltin' 'em down
You know it's Whitey and the Likwits
And kill your whole whack show like I'm Edgar Allan Poe
Like Darrell McDaniel, a hundred G's annual
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
And I'll get loco from Acapulco to Japan
Some get the powers, love, some get the papers
Watch me rock these sounds from the Polo Grounds to the Sunset Strip
And some catch the vibes and some catch the vapors
With legendary status like my name's Lou Brock
And some catch the vibes and some catch the vapors
If I can't bomb on you I'm bombin' on your man
And when the saints come marchin' in
Some get the powers, love, some get the papers
Keep the faith
No pecker wood's iller
I bank my selections on world wide connections
Whitey Ford brings the devastatin' mic control
Praise the Lord, keep the faith
Better
The tips get clocked, baby, the bonds get stocked
I once was lost, see, but now I'm found
And some catch the vibes and some catch the vapors
Amazing grace how sweet the sound
Mister entrepreneur, I rock the shot that's sure
Some get the shit, sugar, some get the stains
Some get the muscles, baby, some get the brains
Mister Whitey Ford gets terrain explored
All these shorties pullin' tools 'cause they know they can't fight
