Me and Jesus the Pimp In a '79 Granada Last Night

Well he was smilin' like a vulture as he rolled up the horticulture

Ignited it and said, "I hope the vapors don't insult ya"

What I replied, denied, but it makes him weed and hot

His head was noddin' up and down like he agreed a lot

Bored, said, "We need a plot," I complied, "Let's leave the spot"

Hopped in the Granada, he's impressed by the beat I got

His name is Jesus, but his pimp name is Jesus

Slapped the ho to pieces with his plastic prosthesis

"****, don't you know that I'm your daddy?" said he

This is true, plus he schooled me for my mackin' degree

Never flee, try not to flee, make **** pee when you stick around

This man my momma had found, taught me to put it down

I press the gas to the ground to show that I'm a hound

Make sure that gear rubber sound is heard throughout the town

Thirty years ago Jesus could pull a ho quick

But now he 50 and his belly hang lower than his dick

Philosophy that he spit stuck in my memory chips

And now he puttin' in a disc of Gladys Knight and the Pips

And then his shit starts to skip, he said somebody musta scratched it

Put the 40 to his lips and poured the contents down the hatchet

Now since my adolescence, 'cause of his pimp lessons

Smack my woman in the gentle just for askin' silly questions

Relationship reduction, either rock the box or suction

Ain't got no close partners, socially I can't function

From the penny would scribe on how to survive

Don't be Microsoft, be Macintosh with a hard drive

Used to tell me all the time to keep a bitch broke

Did I mention that my momma was his number one ho?

Clunked the 40 on the floor and placed his palm on the dash

And wheezed out, "Come on man, make this motherfucker mash!"

Ain't gon' mash too fast 'cause my tags ain't right

Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

City lights from far away can make you drop your jaw

Sparklin' like sequins on a transvestite at Mardi Gras

There's beauty in the cracks of the cement

When I was 5 I hopped over them wherever we went

To prevent whatever it was that could break my momma's back

Little did I know that it would roll up in a Cadillac

And matter fact, she couldn't see him like a cataract

And on the track, she went from beautiful to battle axe

And back at home, she would cry into her pillow

Vomit in the commode, I was 6 years old

I would crawl into her lap and we would hug and hold

Never knew how she was sufferin' for my food and clothes

She asked me what I thought of Jesus when he broke off some bread

I said he missin' an arm and he seem like a pee-pee head

She said, "Don't cuss, and my teeth to go brush

And get ready for bed, and the toilet to flush"

With tears in momma's eyes, I was her everything

Before she went out on a stroll she tucked me into bed and sing

You're just too beautiful for words

You're just too beautiful for words

You're just too beautiful for words

You're just too beautiful for words

I see the red and white lights as the ambulance flies

Reminds me of midnight in a dope fiend's eyes

And my 9-year-old self as paramedics leave

Left to bawl my eyes out on a neighbor's sleeve

To give illustrations that are clear and clean

I'll take you two hours back before this scene

Early in the mornin' when the sun starts to creep

When the birds start to chirp and crackheads go to sleep

Mom's was comin' in, I heard her keys go clink

Wearin' nothin' but pumps, bikini and fake mink

Even though she served for 50 dollars a pop

Hardly had enough for rent after Jesus re-copped

That day the landlady got her rent before he got his knot

Slammed momma's head against the front bolt lock

Then the pimp with one arm done harm

Reached back and plowed into her head like a farm

Never saw the act, locked in the back, I was cussin'

Heard the blap-blap of 20 head crack percussion

And body blows, her body froze from bolos to the spine

I was hysterically cryin', all she could do was whine

She didn't even have the strength to say, "I love you boo"

But I said it to her, and she knew that I knew

She was dead by the time the ambulance got on the case

But I never will forget the plastic hand stuck in her face

Stop at the intersection to ask Jesus 'bout directions

"Go to 'Frisco, I got very friendly vocal inflections"

Momma left at MacArthur to continue in flight

Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

The raindrop dry and froze, God was pissin' on the world

Or that old man who was snorin' rolled on over and earled

My temperature gauge read cold and blistery

Spinnin' wheels made the piece of asphalt history

This was Jesus' debut out the penitentiary

15 Years but it seem like a century

See he went in the pen for some other murder drama

12 Years old, I wrote him, quote, "I wanna be a pimp, comma

You accidentally killed my moms, no playa Haitian points

We know how bitches act, shit, exclamation point!"

At first it was a set up move, then it was the truth

His letters were the only friend that I had as a youth

But his lopsided game, see, was really counterfeit

So my little son Dominic thinks that I'm a dick

'Cause I was runnin' 'round like a little baby Jesus

To me women had to be saints, hoes, or skeezers

And I don't think that it's gon' end 'til we make revolution

But who gon' make this shit if we worship prostitution?

Ain't no women finna die for the same old conclusion

Put they life on the line so some other pimp can use 'em

Pulled into a vacant lot, the road to recovery

Pulled out my pistol as we brushed against the shrubbery

Jesus said, "Why the hell you pointin' a gat?"

So I pulled a piece of game I could use out the hat

I said, "This trip is over, we ain't finna ride on

This is for my mental and my momma that I cried on

Microsoft motherfuckers, let bygones be bygones

But since I'm Macintosh I'ma double-click your icon"

He struggled for life, then gave up the fight

Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

You're just too beautiful for words

You're just too beautiful for words

You're just too beautiful for words

You're just too beautiful for words

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?

Oakland do you want to ride?

I can't hear ya!

Oakland do you want to ride tonight?