To the Choir

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Beedie

A beedi (also spelled bidi or biri) is a thin cigarette or mini-cigar filled with tobacco flake and commonly wrapped in a tendu (Diospyros melanoxylon) or Piliostigma racemosum leaf tied with a string or adhesive at one end. It originates from the Indian subcontinent. The name is derived from the Marwari word beeda—a mixture of betel nuts, herbs, and spices wrapped in a leaf. It is a traditional method of tobacco use throughout South Asia and parts of the Middle East, where beedies are popular and inexpensive. In India, beedi consumption outpaces conventional cigarettes, accounting for 48% of all Indian tobacco consumption in 2008. more »

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If I get lucky I'm a still get through heaven's doors with no health insurance
I thank the lord I got a place to get my bars off
And when the clock's 2-o-clock and them bars off
Even the biggest loss can feel like a small cost
I feel the spirit that's in the music
I channel those
Fulfill the prophecy sayin' that I'm an animal
I just need a couple pairs
It could feel nice
Hoes kneel to me like Christ but in real life
Confused so they say I'm possessed
My momma see the way I'm actin' and she say I'm depressed
But I'm just doin what I gotta, keep away from the stress
Been takin' this test of life and I ain't never gon' stall, naw
Had enough of my time wasted
Had a revelation 'bout a holy retaliation
I let karma catch up
I ain't preachin' to no pastor's son
And I'm a live it to the fullest till my last is done
C'mon

I been travelin' this road so long
So many different paths I'm on
And I don't give a f*ck about your problems 'cause I got mine
I need a house and a car
Keep the baby mom's
It's safe to say I got a lot goin' on
So I ain't got the time, hey
You preachin' to the choir baby
You singin' to the choir baby

Father, son, holy ghost
Am I the only
Close
My pop's a hustler
Stoned, he keep on rollin'
I guess that's what I learned
No concern for what he molded
Come alive like claymation
His facial expression told me, uh
That felt like a crucifixion
Whether you a Jew or Christian
Muslim or another
Still be walkin' with one shoe missin'
Malt sippin'
Church
My first baptism had me passed out
But off the grass I get mad wisdom
Ash wednesday
Hash in my red tape
Watchin' people go and repent when they flask empty
Virgin Mary but I popped her cherry
Was attracted to my hereditary
Her taste she said it vary
I taste it like I'm speakin' in tongues
No secret
In places that don't see the sun
Let karma catch up, I ain't preachin to no preachers
And I'ma live to the limit till my ass drown by the reapers

I been travelin' this road so long
So many different paths I'm on
And I don't give a f*ck about your problems 'cause I got mine
I need a house and a car
Keep the baby mom's
It's safe to say I got a lot goin' on
So I ain't got the time, hey
You preachin' to the choir baby
You singin' to the choir baby

Said I'm a live it to the limit till I'm finished huh
Said I'm a live it to the limit till I'm finished huh, huh
Said I'm a live it to the limit till I'm finished huh, huh
Said I'm a live it to the limit till I'm finished huh

I been travelin' this road so long
So many different paths I'm on
And I don't give a f*ck about your problems 'cause I got mine
I need a house and a car
Keep the baby mom's
It's safe to say I got a lot goin' on
So I ain't got the time, hey
You preachin' to the choir baby
You singin' to the choir baby

Good things take time
Good things take time
You preachin' to the choir baby
Good things take time
Good things take time
You singin' to the choir baby
Good things take time
Good things take time

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