Yves - Sins Of Presumtion lyrics

Interlude: (Mike Tyson Speech) Chorus: Jesus pieces, Jesus sandals Pardon the piggy bank pockets, that ain't for Muslums As-Salaam-Alaikum, peace to holy people I'm stepping up to God, but I just Feel a lil creepled . (n***a) Verse1: This sh** creepy ah-huh, at least you think so Is this some typa sh** that make n***as wanna pray more? Is this some typa sh** that make n***as wanna sell they souls? Jeeze, gosh, damn, Muhammad, Allah or Ali, go Lord have mercy on me, gimmi that lambo Jesus peace gettin heavy homie, this holy swag go Crucify this beat dunni, you know I nail this sh** Ill-Flow-Disease gali, we resurrect you quit Like game over, your time over Man I got this sh** like a nappy on ya sh**, smell that Sit back this a villain take over Tryna get more dough than a pa**over Bang bang bang, bring the shots over Yall hangover, 'fore the night's over I need a crossover, this my last Supper Hook: But yall n***as can't run this sh** Survived the suicides That's when I lost weight, on hooks I'm heavy weight Hunger for the game, the paper chase That's when I mumble through my daily Grace Like "thank you lord for my daily bread, and bless the hands...mmhhh, Amen." (Chorus) Verse2: Bread and wine, I'm tryna find me some Jesus The wise pray for the youth and they tell us the church needs us. (aahh) Sins of presumption, a cheek was kissed by Judus Power of a mob shakes you, till Peter denies Jesus (Jesus, Jesus) Hell will do ya, before you'd say hallelujah Ma I've been skippin Sunday School, just to rap with them NuSkool Preach n***a catch your breath, n***a preach Breath the holy spirit till they think you him, Pastor Chris Mxim man, f** all dem hoes I'm feeling Godly with my O, and I'll be good with extra hoes Lord knows shea, Lord knows I'd need more change 'fore I sell my soul And I'd need more Gold, and I'd need more shows And I'd need more rows, and I'd need more blows, Oh Bridge: Keeping the lines on point like i"m a general Sulute to NuSkool , preach on that Nu-Bible "Hustle Hard, k** Swag" that's the Nu-Gospel Shooting stars, Machine guns, where your old pistols? War, the sound of an old riffle Fight for your life, you wake up to a royal rumble The youth dying at the bar, shots on a double But I still keep it high, cup a double Outro: ( Uncle Ruckus' exorcism)