Lyrics:
Jesus gone missing
Teenagers kissing
Behind the manger scene down at the church
Fred's fresh out of prison
His ankle is a-buzzing
Grandpa's stuck in his
Well out in the country we didn't have mortuaries
and so it was always customary
to lay the dead out right there at home.
Well the church would loan
Tip out, put cha church finga in the air and tip out
Put cha church finga in the air
Well if ya slip, slip, slippin' just start tip, tip, tippin' out
auf der Stirn, Fred Durst
If you're scared, go to church
First things first
Deine Bitch geht allein schlafen in mei'm Merch
Mein Arsch ist auf der
He used to handle snakes in Church
Perfect hair and a starched white shirt
Now he's got a hold of something
He can't drop like a copperhead
There's
They'd prolly up the wage if I sell out
But I ain't finna water down the message
Feeling like Fred no weapon
Gon prosper against me the opps ain't gon
Nate Dizzle, Fred Rizzle
Put the pieces to the Pizzle
All the ladies who like sex like I do
Come up to my room
I'm gon' give it to you
All my
you eatn lead
Don't huh me nigguh heard what I said
Son got that bam bam his daddy Fred
Gimme my money I kill'm dead
Walked in the club with the strap
cries
Know the family traumatized
Shots left holes in his face 'bout piranha-sized
The old pastor closed the cold casket
And said the church ain't got
HELLELUJAH
Music & word by Fred Z
Pull the trigger, smash the silence soon I will explode
I look around me, need a saviour, I have to leave this
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Church, uh
Red carpet, gold lace, fake smile, fake wave
Stop, pose, smile, ayy, shutter
Flash, flash
cannin'
Sharp just like I'm Shannon, lobster and salmon
I'm from where them choppers singin' like they Fred Hammond
Ayy, young boy got bands on me
At the Grammys with the matriarchs of our families
Every once in a while a rapper ask how can he become S.O.S.A. like Sammy
Rest in peace Fred, rest in peace
Remines twist shit blaze it up and spit this real shit
For the homies that R.I.P.
Don't trip on crip we keep ya'll alive
Meech dogg bigg Ernest, Fred
business like a suit and tie
I'm head first, limpin' with a biscuit like I'm Fred Durst
Told my dog that we gon' get it right, he popped a med first
Where
no Ruben.
From wearin my big brother's clothes, to buyin him a new wardrobe (yes I did) From listenin to Fred Hammond, to hangin out
Wit Fred
Remines twist shit blaze it up and spit this real shit
For the homies that R.I.P.
Don't trip on crip we keep ya'll alive
Meech dogg bigg Ernest, Fred
a true player has to be
The shit comes naturally, so hoes quit asking me
I never listened and used to cuss in back of the church
Bracking the Max is my
(mhm)
Dutty behavior, dutty mind (watch yah)
Cyaan wull mi dung, mi go fi mine
Run up pon eh killer pussy an' mi buss eh nine
Weh yuh mean Fred man
They know Fred all around Miami, it's gon' be hard to shake me
Brodie just seen his eyes he movin' back and forth, he just keep on pacin
Red
La Chiraq now, funerals is packed now
Preachers at the pulpit, Jesus is the background
Grandmother get shot walkin' out the church
How that sound?
Yeah (yea yea) uhh, yeah
Fred Wreck in this motherfucker
Yeah Tha Eastsidaz
Back once again to drop that Crip Hop shit
We gets payed to steal, gang
Yeah, yeah
Steppin' on this shit, slidin' on that shit
Praise the Lord, baby
Yeah, money in the church pot
Your nephew work for me, got bundles
See it was the assassination of MLK JFK FRED HAMPTON MALCOM X WE AINT START MURDER EACH OTHER 60s early 70d when all our leaders was killed that’s
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