Lyrics:
Step inside
Join this lifeless congregation
And complete your transformation
It is a cult of life and so a cult of dying
For what is life but dying
I'm A cult boy
Old soul with a white noise
In his head but, cause voices kill joy
See I'm dead but my body gone carry on
Flight risk, I'm too use
history
'Moving On's the song I play in case you're also watching
So stop still living your life when I'm not there
What do I like by myself
Uh who cares
with the cult leader orator
Since I was shorty y'all
Busy with Bacardi raw
I cock the 44, symphonies by Marley Marl
I would splatter all of y'all
Shit
Soulless eyes are open from the fathoms underground
Drawn back into being bound by hunger
Hunger
Creatures from the earthen core begin their slow
shit ain't no game, hah
It's not easy for me
I pull up to my homie crib, I'll call him my therapist, yuh
I need a good girl by my side cause I lost them
kneel by her and pray
And I'll turn off the light
Step out in the night
And I'll go on my way
She's got to be a saint
Lord know that I ain't
I
Now with your loyal fan base and to the extent
That there dedicated to your music and your message
It has some people calling you a cult leader,
no stress but I will never forget
Am I a saint or a sinner
Am I an angel or a killer
Listen while I paint a perfect picture
80's baby lately I've been
the hinges
Or to mend the window panes.
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
I'm a-gettin' ready to meet the saints. (The saints)
This ole house is afraid
When the night is getting closer
And you got no one by your side
It’s like the world falls down on you
And there’s nowhere you can hide
You feel
Take the streets back like a Guerilla Saint
Outreach like a pack of Guerilla Saints
Bold, but yet humble that's the image of Christ
Those in the dark we
worship
Power in worship
Power in the worship of the saints
Come on jam those hands unto the Lord
He has given us breakthrough
By the blood of His son
decided to reach out anyway
I know we didn't spend too much time together so I wanted to catch you up on a few Things
For starters, I go by Saint and I've
Livin is easy in saint tropez
Ain´t it a nice place to dream away
The noise and annoyance of a stressful day
Livin is easy in saint-tro-pez
Sipping
the picture
Of his favorite chair to stay
Where he'd rest his tortured body
Scarred and marred by his life's war
I hope he found the reasons
Needed to reach for
There's once was this dog headed saint, living on the outskirts of town
he had paws like a bear, and the strength of an army combined
Long ago he sat
flowers with every new played chord...why don't you listen by now
Yeah, we are the Blooming Saints, uhuh
Yeah, we are the Blooming Saints, alright mama
Cost yet
Aww yeah
Party in LA
And she ain't show up by herself
But she may as well
If she brought friends I couldn't tell
She wanted to go home
I told
Summoned forth this night
By the hybrid cult
Follow the bloodline throughout the past
Seek and you will find a hidden ancestry
At night the circle
and citizen of Milan, was a Roman warrior, converted to Christianity. He became a martyr and saint when killed during the persecution carried out by the Roman
muh'fucker at
Everywhere we have on repeat
The jailhouse, Saint Peter, right street
Part of there where dude by the Duvall
Man the fuck up, perservere
She knew that is was true
He wasn't a saint
But he was a saint enough for her
He was a man,
A man of his word
The final days of summer, 1964,
[Saint Dane: 1 ]
I don’t give no fucks, i don’t give no fucks, (nah)
She tried to pop out to my house but i don’t fuck (ew), that lil hoe a thotty
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