| We ‘bout to go to church, I know you hear the organ chords
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| You preaching to the choir in the chapel corridor
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| Lord forgive me for all the shit I done before
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| My coordinates have turned me to a carnivore
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| That little hottie you got ain’t no Coretta Scott
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| A little fed time pass, I bet them letters stop
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| But niggas never gon' change, just like the leopard’s spots
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| I got a flow that stay flooded as when the levees dropped
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| So all my lyrics is possessed with the spirits
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| Of children that couldn’t make it, God damn I know you hear it
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| When the shot clear out and the echoes go
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| Kids playing with techs, no Tecmo Bowl
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| Big cousin got murdered, big brother got a life bid
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| Cancer took my father from me, this is how my life is
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| Playing Smokey Robinson and waiting for the miracles
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| Looking in the mirror with a mind full of spirituals
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| My God!
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| No gossip, this is that gospel rap
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| Resurrect on the track, now the gods are back
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| Somebody pray for me, because the devil’s trying to get me
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| Just pray for me, because the devil’s trying to get me
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| This is tarantula rap, on the hammer crack
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| But no pictures posted, I’m a poet perhaps
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| I’m walking through the streets where all the toasters is at
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| Find me anywhere like throwin' the door to the mat
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| No matter the locale
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| From New York City to SoCal
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| New school niggas should slow down
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| If not, then prepare for the showdown
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| At any given time it can go down
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| I walk with the ghost of a panther, the antlers of a devil
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| Rebel without a cause, pulling strings like Geppeto
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| Part of my team, too practical to settle
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| The beat I’ve got a have it like Edo, hello
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| I am not a soloist, I don’t play the cello
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| Metal rippin', strayin' through the walls faster than a tempo
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| I don’t bang unless it’s on instrumentals
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| You can hear the pain, I wish life was so simple
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| Ready for any altercation, the pen and the pad is my main squeeze
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| Lyrics is cold, sometimes I get a brain freeze
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| I can’t leave, my mind thinking the same schemes
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| Pedal to the floor, flowin' at the same speed
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| Can it be I’m a deity of the city streets?
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| Searching for inner peace, demons seemingly envy me
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| This is a life that I can’t change
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| Got to maintain, still staring out the window with the AK
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| Reading Ezekiel, still I’m keeping my heater close
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| Puffin' this reefer and prayin' that we don’t overdose
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| The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost trinity
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| Baptize my words with a cup that’s full of Hennessy
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| Crusade the streets in a nice rimmed car
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| During midnight we ride like the Knights Templar
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| Think smart I do, a disciple I am
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| This is a leap of faith I take, I man
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| My brothers and sisters, this evening my service concern. |
| I want you to,
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| want you to dig down. |
| I said I want you to dig … I’m talkin' ‘bout way down.
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| And then I want you to come up. |
| Come up, with the paper. |
| ‘Cause I got to have
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| it. |
| You know, some of you out there, you say to yourself, you say,
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| «You got all that money, and you seem to be always beggin'.» |
| I ain’t beggin'.
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| I’m just tryin' to relieve you of some of that paper, ‘cause I got to have it |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gospel Rap , by - Marco Polo. Song from the album Newport Authority 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп