Song Lyrics

"Blow Your Whistle"

by Rhema Soul
Album: Fingerprints

Butta P Verse:

I'm calling all you hatas and fakers and you players
the ones that swear they balling but aint cashing no paper.
You selling me a lifestyle, or something like a hype dream
I speak truth to the youth, I'm teachin e'm what life means
and showing' em who Christ be
beyond the walls don't like me, the streets they wanna fight me
and my people more than likely are ating cause it's frightening
feeling more than likely I'm a fall into enticing instead of praying for my sightseeing.
Don't label me perfect, I'm damaged like the rest
I struggle with insecurities man, this is just my test.
CAUSE HE SAYS HE LOVES YOU DOESN'T MEAN THAT HE'S THE BEST.
KNOW BETWEEN LOVE AND LUST SWEETHEART, IT'S MORE THAN SEX.
SO STOP SELLING YOURSELF SHORT, YOU ARE WONDERFULLY MADE.
YOUR BEAUTY IS PERFECTION, IN HIS IMAGE YOU WERE MADE.
How can we escape the dismay society's made.
Blow Your whistle on it if I ever come off fake.

K-Nuff verse:

I don't want no issues
I ain't say this to this you
And I know the truth hurts and it cuts deeper than Ginsu,
But it's true, so yeah I had to call him out 'this dude'
But it's so hard to put him on blast when it's you
Because iron sharpens iron and it's often very violent
And it's a process when you think you are as sharp as I am
And that's pride; I've got no time to ignore it
I love my sneaker game, but it's also my vice to be honest,
Sometimes I think and hate on other so called to be 'artists'
That's when I pump my brakes and humble myself at my father's
He puts me in my place; I'm a servant and just a face
To serve up a helpful plate, I'm the lowest for heaven's sake
Get me'
So if you catch me acting all extreme
Blow my whistle in person or text me, but let's keep it moving
I am as imperfect as you and as injured as the dude that's labeled 'the king of the Jews'

Juanlove Verse;

Note to self; Ease back, later hater with the feedback
Sometimes you keep it colder than a meat rack
Money, often I relapse
And this is my confession: I'm a cynical criminal defective like a machine that's
Broken. Utter broken scoping the scene that
Really angers me but I'm open to pull the screen back
Exposing the inner nature of a beast that's masking the hurt
Which wasn't there when I was formed in the dirt and I mean that
I broke the law and with it all I flirt but it seems that
I'm walking with this blood upon my shirt and I can't relax
Quite crucial I deem that. I can't escape; he even owns my car note cus he's a GMAC
The word of God is not a free rap, see it costs dearly so dearly beloved come and believe that
Blow your whistle and find an alter to kneel at
Peel back the onion of the soul and watch him redeem that


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