Phonte - Pastor Tigallo lyrics

Verse 1 They love it when I talk my sh** again Pastor Tigallo rap game Benny Hinn I wanna be chill but can’t afford to be still I need a refill greens, bills, dividends So pull it outcha pocket dollar bills, twenty twens I show out cause I know doubt just like the phrase “then again?” This is prosperity rap sh** for people who be dreaming of Saks Fifth but pockets on CitiTrends You wack n***as who deny y’all wackness Is like Black n***as who deny they Blackness and say wack sh** Like “I ain’t Black b**h my daddy Dominican” Close your eyes and envision a flow that can’t be imprisoned My sh**’ll break outta any pen I used to think these hoes fine Now these hoes mine and I’m singing to em like Rin and Tin Hook Everybody has a time when they’re in need And if ya need a healing then let it get into you Let it get into you Verse 2 I’m a man I’m a black citizen On a stand with a magnificent plan to act n******gish to a tee Like a black Jack Nicklaus or EST the acknicklous Do ya rap diligence Do ya backpack, trap rap and ya Dilla sh** Imma be a gentleman and show you sentimental n***as what the fundamentals is And walk off with two white hoes like Black militants Take me to the king Nah n***a take me to the dealership Then take me to a doctor for pills because I’m ill-equipped to deal with a subliminal diss It ain’t real beef it’s kibbles and bits What I do with these bars is criminal it’s not a game So y’all can miss me with that new n***a millennial sh** I ain’t heard of that Murder rap game Cyrano de Bergerac from Tigallo still the livest n***a in your cul-de-sac Sang it, Booty.. SANG IT, BOOTY! Hook: Everybody has a time when they’re in need And if ya need a healing then let it get into you Let it get into you Verse 3 Onstage I’m a monster In Paris I am “Monsieur” But when I step off still I’m unsure With no reverb it deserves an encore My grandma asking what you cussin all the time for It’s for the family nah it’s for my sanity Handily stayin true to myself outta the concourse n***as is comedy sh** is Flight of the Conchords It was a late night and I was set On a drive down 85 wondering why the best ideas only come to me when I’m alone or I’m depressed Whatever happens to a rhyme deferred 4 bars at a loss for words hoping that I find the rest It’s like a wound that never heals A void that never fills and I’m thinking is it by design or by request I really oughta take some time to rest this can’t be healthy Maybe I’m possessed Maybe I’m a mess Man in the high castle taking out a minor threat with one stroke of a pen sippin on Hen sittin behind a desk Why is it I can only thrive in a time of stress? Call it a benediction or divine intervention I can’t remember when the bars turned into a sentence I’m not the man that I intend to be Pastor came to give you life But this life is k**ing me Hook: Everybody has a time when they’re in need And if ya need a healing then let it get into you Let it get into you