Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Eyes Of Santa Muerte, artist - La Coka Nostra. Album song Masters Of The Dark Arts, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.07.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Fat Beats
Song language: English
The Eyes Of Santa Muerte |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), these people fear me |
I’ve seen murder, disease, it’s all near me |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), I know you hear me |
I wrote it fucked up, you see it clearly |
Enter the cult of the death’s gods, traffickers and ex-cons |
Skull and robe, hold the globe in outstretched palm |
A revered image of truth, here with the youth |
Vivid living proof spitting like El Chapo in the booth |
Death is the beginning, so without fear we run towards the willing |
Manufacturing murder anthems and songs of killing |
Ballads of massacre, the psalms of the forbidden |
Cash is the master of every broken law that is written |
Burning up the abomination conjuring hatred |
Virgin of the incarcerated martyrs of Satan |
Persecuted like the Inquisition in Spain |
Condemned, made to repent my religion of pain |
Set on fire like in Salem where the witches were slain |
Behind bars till I die for these bricks of cocaine |
No regrets though I pray to my saints often |
Holy Death, lying awake in a coffin |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), these people fear me |
I’ve seen murder, disease, it’s all near me |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), I know you hear me |
I wrote it fucked up, you see it clearly |
They say the world don’t spin without the hand of God |
While them damn priest trying to get a kid to give a handjob |
I guess that really means I am odd |
Cause I don’t let my kids get on their knees to pray for damn slobs |
And I ain’t talking about Jesus see |
I’m just speaking on the cardinals, the BC |
This is the crazy shit that we see |
That’s why I’m grateful that the streets are the only ones that teach me |
Yo, and on that note, they giving pedophiles months |
While they give the homies life for dope |
What kind of shit is that? |
That shit ain’t right though |
If a grown man wanna buy the right blow |
We’re like Vegas in a sense, you know it’s false hope |
Instead of slot machines and card games it’s all coke |
They making hustlers like us walk a tightrope |
While every other fucking snake is alright though |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), these people fear me |
I’ve seen murder, disease, it’s all near me |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), I know you hear me |
I wrote it fucked up, you see it clearly |
New York is inhabited, there’s smoke in Los Angeles |
Long arm of the law is broken with bandages |
They call me Slaine, the La Coka evangelist |
Our spoken languages provoking the scandalous |
You dummies are dead, dummy, there’s a gun to your head |
There’s no loyalty left, just money instead |
My blood speaks the truth that none of you said |
You should be fighting the power, you’re running instead |
Where’s your heart at? |
Your bones weak |
You talk loud all the time, when I’m here you don’t speak |
When the heat’s on in front of you the pressure is real |
You’re a bunch of fucking sheep to a messenger’s hill |
I should have chapters in the Bible cause my testament’s real |
I’m a product of violence and mescaline pills |
Was you born to be a faggot cause it seems like it |
Your life ain’t nothing like mine, you just dream like it |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), these people fear me |
I’ve seen murder, disease, it’s all near me |
This is all there is, now there ain’t shit left |
It’s like I’m looking in the eyes of the saint of death |
(La Santa Muerte), I know you hear me |
I wrote it fucked up, you see it clearly |