Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Les contes de la crypte, artist - The Hollywood Prime Time Orchestra.
Date of issue: 07.08.2011
Song language: English
Les contes de la crypte |
When I was 12, I got baptized |
But I’ve been runnin from Heaven since |
Half the time, I wonder, «Does it even exist?» |
I constantly cross the line between pleasure and sin |
I try, but sometimes, it seems I just can’t repent |
I wonder if my Grandma’s lookin down on me with a frown or a grin |
Or maybe she’s just dirt in the ground, and that’s how it ends |
I was so strong in my beliefs as a kid |
Now it feels wrong though to believe in this |
It’s been so long since Jesus made me see He exists |
Why can’t just send one sign, one time? |
Please, just one line- that’s all I need |
And then I’m confined and reformed |
Please, just bend the rules this one time |
I need more |
I need to know that you are out there listening |
I need to know that there is something else |
I need to know that there is more then glistening |
I need to know that I’m not by myself |
That’s what the world wants to hear me say |
But I know that I’m saved by eternal grace |
And the day that I get to the pearly gates |
My grandma’s gonna meet me and say my name |
The world’s gotten so backwards |
Everybody roots for you to fail |
And God’s the last thing that matters (We've got a pulse) |
No wonder it’s a living Hell! |
(What's goin on?) |
Laying on this operating table- it’s impossible to save me |
And I’m probably fading into the dark |
Hated for the thoughts that I’m saying |
I know what confidence waiting |
And my haters are praying I don’t see tomorrow |
Cause they know if I don’t make it then I’m not in their way |
And their journey to the top would be easier to make |
But secretly they wanna peep into the operating procedure |
Just to see if there is still a piece of my brain |
And they can take it, but wouldn’t know what to do with it |
They’re not creative enough to make the music I did |
With the same beats, same bars, same rhymes, same flows |
I would kill em all, but the fuckin' ruined the shit |
And they’re too stubborn to admit that I’m influencing them |
Too busy judging me, while I’m making some moves in this bitch |
Because I’m careful at who I choose who to include in this crypt |
I’d rather be judged by 12, than be carried by 6 |
So many haters are waiting in the Emergency Room |
They wanna see the doctor come out and say I’m not pullin through |
Well, I’m pullin through, and the ER is crowded |
There’s so much noise but no damn talent |
I lay down brain dead on the steel table |
The top of my head’s cut off- it’s no fable |
My toe tag has got no name label |
My cold raps were just dang hateful, woo! |
I think it’s kinda funny- all these muthafuckas are waiting on me to die |
But even if I die, I’m always livin in your mind |
My name is Crypt, bitch- I’ve been dead this whole time |
On the inside, when I’m writing my rhymes, bitch, it feels like I can almost fly |
But then, I realize no one likes anytime that I spit |
But fuck it- I keep it real cause it feels right |
When I write down all of my rhymes |
No matter what I do, somebody will cry |
«You're too offensive, you’re non-inclusive» |
But it’s none of your business how I write my music |
Stop trynna change me to fit your vision- I won’t do it, I will just refuse it |
If you don’t like it, then don’t fuckin' listen |
There’s plenty other people out there that do this |
No matter what I do, I should’ve zigged when I zagged |
Everybody tells me, I should try something different |
But when I do, they tell me that they miss how I rap |
It’s a catch 22 so, tell me, what’s the difference? |
If you do what you want, then I won’t like it |
If I do what I want, then you won’t like it |
If I do what they want, then no one likes it |
The only option is to just stay silent! |