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santangelo - please lyrics
[verse 1: san williams]
proud to grow up a young muskrat with just a snotty nose
n0body knows how mommy goes out to buy these clothes
my daddy goes but wasn’t the type to boomerang
so he taught me and my sister to honor the pain
sometimes i look at all my hommmies
and try to piece together the ones who think that they know me
and then i started thinking about all the money that we spent
intoxicated on weekends
time wasted waiting on weeks end
man godd-mn!
say that i’m on next but they don’t really mean it
spit anything so you look good dude i think you’re bulimic
and i feel like i got to stop and suppress
all of these feeling i get
because they gon think they’re up next
h-ll yes!
it feels good as f-ck to wake up and know you’re the sh-t
cause even with my many problems i’m doing it big
and all these constellations told me you’re doing it kid
but the truth of it is
i know lucifer lives
a necromancer a devil dancer i tried to warn ya
sinners nation lies center stage up in california
rocking shows while these rocky hoes gon rock the boat
and if you jump into the game better pray that you’ll float
i know the odds are against it but
if the gods are still with it i’d give my soul and my spirit
to give my soul and my spirit and
if i said it i meant it boy if i said it i meant it
preaching the sinner’s gospel
never forget it
finished
[bridge: james m. p-ssy]
everybody
welcome you are now listening to the sensational san williams
i’m your host for this evening
james money p-ssy
this sh-t is over…
syke!
[verse 2: san williams]
for my n-ggas who say they ride for it
never turn your back cause then my hommie you died for it
why lord
and tell my mama not to cry lord
because if i’m real with you i don’t want to die lord
but
simple sin can turn angel into angelica
be scared of who’s next to ya relevance makes em deadlier
my lyric books my interpretation of revelations
so if i never make it my prophecies in the pavement
not a rapper i’m a prophet expecting some payment
but to be honest i wouldn’t mind to be know as the greatest
artist on earth
to be seen as a god when i work
but it’s hard to get work
when your odds are at worst
church! (ugh)
hard times come at the right time
but i write rhymes and tight lines to fight mine
i, negotiated the price line
overnight time to right mine but now i’m
getting smarter so i’m seeing different things
y’all don’t really know what i mean i see it in my dreams
and i ain’t sleeping man i’m talking dr. king
y’all don’t really know what i mean i see it in my dreams
cause this sinners nation’s got patience for patients
with no relation to satan faithfully fakin to make
so when you make it you fake b-tch better know what my name is
i’m san the greatest
amen!
[hook: max weinstein]
and all of them gonna say amen
that’s my song man play it again
ay man can i get an amen
no encore i ain’t playing godd-mn
and then they’ll forget it in a month
like i ain’t never heard of such and such
so make music not trends
while y’all do anything for and amen
amen!
[verse 3: max weinstein]
sweet jesus we’re deep creatures
smoking blunts rolled from bibles on steep speakers
listening to the siren songs of creep preachers
who spread religion like a disease and sell it like cheap sneakers
meanwhile i’m on the corner with doubt
asking every devout now to put money in their mouths
it’s funny i how i justify my sins with arguments
over what it means to live and if god exists
and that’s not even the question
the question is without love would the world function
we all know the answer to that
so we spread stories as if they were cancerous can it be
that a family isn’t defined
by the gender of its members
i recommend you open your minds
and then open your wallets
give me a moment of your time
and a dollar if you have it
sh-t a quarter is fine
but f-ck it i’ll take a dime
i was on the verge of quitting when i heard san rhyme
and his words served beside my beats was a sign
that we had a gift, and to not use it would be a crime
so i locked myself in my room from 5 to 9
i won’t tolerate a 9 to 5 long as i’m alive
won’t retire til i’m dying lying for the last time
saying f-ck it kick the bucket let the fat lady sing
i’m deaf to dumb sh-t and right now i don’t hear a thing
i’m wasted, recycled off the green my mind racing
hold my head in my hands like i’m vibrating
but i’m bouncing to the beat of my death
while the fat lady steps with her feet on my chest
i press, but can’t take a solitary breath
only feel vexed from the onset of death
hope when i p-ss you’ll puff my ashes while the sunsets
pack it and then cash it say you’re smoking on the best
[hook]
and all of them gonna say amen
that’s my song man play it again
ay man can i get an amen
no encore i ain’t playing godd-mn
and then they’ll forget it in a month
like i ain’t never heard of such and such
so make music not trends
while y’all do anything for an amen
amen!
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