(Oh!)

(Jebus! Fuck!)

Since you asked mommy nicely

(Here we go again!)

Don't misread signs 'cause I'm a little high

(And a tiny bit unholy)

Don't mean preachers get to keep my tithe

(That offer I gave was only)

Good for the first time to get things steamy and soothe your hesitation

(Get sin off the ground)

A holy hour service every Sunday requires you pay a donation

(pass the plate another round)

But something tells me your head's

(Holy! Dome!)

Keeps underestimated 'cause I know damn well that my head

(Holy! Throat!)

Is holy satiatin, it's true I raised my rate

(Raise it high!)

There's really no debating, I just don't want to bother God

(Or his church!)

To help me out with unholy inflation

We both know that I'm a bit (unholy)

You made that fucking clear

(it's clear as ink!)

But even if God damn (my soul, he) ain't about to coerce me through fear

(Ain't what you think!)

'Cause preacher man I'm still quite (unruly), greater than Satan and how he fell

(Great, great fall!)

When I show up the calm and cool me, I'll kick down the gates of hell

(Satan, fuck! Answer his sinful call (call, call))

Don't confuse yourself for righteous

(Oh-oh!)

Unreachable by my paw

(She got claws!)

Your scripture's just a different hustle

(oh!)

Carved in loophole laws! (Preaching flaws!) You tithe in shame, my liquid wages burn your throated hymn

(Yes spirit burn!)

I got more gospel (in her moans) sun flow when I release my sin

(Halle-hallelujah!)

Choir boy's hum, (deep throat hum,) preacher man's legs keep on shaking

I might be dumb, (girl I ain't dumb), but I seen that face and ain't no faking

You pray for grace

(Grace rain down!)

Look like grace is breaking, guess whose sermon

(Preacher or the hoe?)

Got more bounty for the taking

We both see that you're a bit (unholy,) your halo cracked last year

(Preacher man smokes crack!)

And if your God still thinks (he owns me,) he better send cash not fear

(Bet your best not last!)

'Cause preacher man I'm still quite (unruly), greater than prophets you try to sell

(Prophet peddeler!)

But from the way you're faking holy, you turned your pulpit to hell

(Profit predator!)

Last week's gospel (was a sales pitch,) I remember you begging

But I heard your God

(Sky daddy rich bitch,)

Do plenty of spending

(Victory 'cause Jeebus,) I heard his card don't decline

So grab a chalice, pour me some good wine

And bring me his body, I heard he was fine or at least he was hung

And his blood's worth a dime

I heard about a mansion he has built for me in glory

And I heard he made his streets with gold, sounds like wealth to me

Don't tell me that you're hurting, that church work ain't been earning

'Cause something about it ain't quite right aligned with victory

So if your Jebus will, tell him fill my plate

I'm coming all the way from hell, might be running late

The highway that heads down here is always packed as fuck

Or might be early, road to heaven's only got a couple schmucks

Guess the most of the world's unholy, and that shit's just fine

(Fine as fuck,) 'cause to me there's only more eyes that clearly see

(See was up), tell Jebus he ain't fooling

If he needs funds he can post these streets for sale (golden streets)

Or hit the blade, I'll gladly school him on hoework from my throne right here in hell

(Hit them holy sheets)

(Jebus! Fuck!)

Your hung body breaks bread