Lyrics:
my line
I've been crucified by a Baptist preacher
Been face to face with the ole Grim Reaper
Been taken to school by a long-legged teacher
Mm,
the hand that feed ya
Cufflinks cold as Ebenezer
My momma probably should of named me Caesar
Cleaner than a baptist preacher
That use to pimp
Gator shoes
his Pampers, us man, we're not rampers
Post outside, we're campers, come to your Uni campus
Splash him, John the Baptist, I don't need no accomplice
from a back pew
In a backroad Baptist church
Shoulda paid more attention when the preacher man read it
But if I listen to the news and talk radio
There's a baptist church on a county road
With everyone that we both know
There's wedding bells and a long white field
You're in it
Every single good
and Nuns are molesting each other
Methodists and Baptists are claiming Buddhist
Evangelicals surprisingly are Nudist
But mostly everyone is trying
banksta'z) S.O.M. original (black banksta'z)
Wu Killa Beez, Sunzini, 12 O'Clock
Aiyo Knight, we bout to pop it off (John the Baptist, aiyo, we all)
[Hell
born again
Me, I'm just lying here in Suzy's bed
Baptists celebrating with praises to the Lord,
Rednecks doing it with gin
Me and Suzy, we're
Let 'em talk their Tomahawk talk
Burn a tattoo on your chest
Everything is so perfect
Everything real high class
Just like a crazy Baptist
place on every side
There's a Baptist ministry
In the church yard down the street
On every side
On each street corner you will find
There are people
stinking in the grass
If you Catholic go to mass
If you Baptist go to church
See a ho up in a nigga, gon pull up a skirt
That'll be, some incredible shit
a Baptist
Old hoes calling but they know they old news
Now I'm balling out with a hundred cold blues
Cause I
Just got a check (check)
Gold on my neck (neck)
the bread
Saintly priests
Castigate
Holy water for the head
With shades of John the Baptist
Who came intent to rescue
And danced with death instead.
Bless
style, John the Baptist
Christ, Socrates
Caesar, García Lorca
I have met men in jail with style
I have met more men in jail with
Style than men out
walk down to the Park Hotel
Past the Baptist Veteran's Mall
Back then, a man in uniform
Might mean anything at all
Oh, pray for you, pray for me
Sing it
In the local Baptist church
And to all the congregation
He can make the organ talk.
Saturday the church is jam-packed
People come from miles
the skies are blue
And look for things both bright and new"
And on a pretty Sunday morning
A bunch of pretty Baptist girls
Linked their pretty hands
of this world
Didn't they take old John the Baptist
And out him in a kettle of oil
Well, my god got in there with him
And they told me the oil
Water thin
The wall is in
She's chlorine clean and portion fed
Feed the dog
Slop the hog
Shine the baptist and debark the log
It's all right,
you weak minded, dumb deaf the nigga blinded
Left behind in, lost and found you can't find it
John the Baptist, observe, mad water
Surveillance
reminds me of the time when,
You nearly kissed me blind,
On Baptist street it's true,
And if you turn me down,
I'll spin this coin around,
And I'll
(Cam, you wrong for that one)
(DJ Shab, fool)
Ooh, first off, thank God that I'm a Baptist, huh
I'll baptize a bitch, I ain't cappin', huh
roots run deep
In the country roots run deep
Baptist church raised, parkin' lot blazed
Smoked ham on the table after
Hearin' preacher man preach
Shirts
Perry
Me, I grew up inside the Baptist church
But I still do yoga because I think it works
I believe in ancient aliens and in Jesus
I believe in
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