Me And Jesus The Pimp In A '79 Granada Last Night Lyrics
| Song | Me And Jesus The Pimp In A '79 Granada Last Night |
| Artist | The Coup |
| Album | Steal This Double Album |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Riley | |
| 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 he mixin weed and hop | |
| His head was noddin' up and down like he agreed a lot | |
| Bored, said, "we need a plot," i comply, "let's leave the spot" | |
| Hopped in the granada, he's impressed by the beat i got | |
| His name is "hay-zoos" but his pimp name is "gee-zus" | |
| Slapped a hoe to pieces with his plastic prosthesis | |
| "nigga don't you know that i'm your daddy?" said he | |
| This is true, plus he schooled me for my mackin' degree | |
| "never plea, try not to flee, make niggaz 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 | |
| Makin' sho' that get rubber sound is heard throughout the town | |
| Thirty years ago, jesus could pull a hoe quick | |
| But now he 50 and his belly hangs lower than his dick | |
| Philosophy that he spit stuck in my memory chips | |
| And now he puttin' in a disk of gladys knight and the pips | |
| Then that shit starts to skip, he said, "somebody musta scratch it" | |
| Put the 40 to his lips and poured the contents down the hatchet | |
| Well since my adolescense, cause of his pimp lessons | |
| Smack my woman in the dental just for askin' silly questions | |
| Relationship reduction to either rock the box or suction | |
| Ain't got no close potnahs, socially i cain't function | |
| From the pen he 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 hoe? | |
| Clunked the 40 on the flo' and placed his palm on the dash | |
| And wheezed out, "c'mon man, make this mother****er mash!" | |
| Ain't gon' mash too fast, cause my tags ain't right | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a '79 granada last night | |
| Chorus: *sung* (2x) | |
| Oakland do you wanna ride? | |
| I can't hear you! oakland do you wanna ride tonight? | |
| [boots] | |
| City lights from far way can makeyou drop yo' jaw | |
| Sparklin' like sequins on a transvestite at mardi gras | |
| There's beauty in the cracks of the cement | |
| When i was five 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 matta-fact, she couldn't see him like a cataract | |
| And on the track, she went from beautiful to battleaxe | |
| And back at home, she would cry into her pillow | |
| Vomit in the commode, i was six years old | |
| I would crawl onto her lap and we would hug and hold | |
| She asked me what i thought of jesus when he broke off some bread | |
| I said, "he missin' a 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 my momma's eyes, i was her everything | |
| Before she went out on the stroll | |
| She'd tuck me into bed and sing: | |
| You're much too beautiful for words (4x) | |
| I see the red and white lights as the ambulance flies | |
| Reminds me of midnight in a dopefiend's eyes | |
| And my 9-year-old self as paramedics leave | |
| Left to ball my eyes out on a neighbor's sleeve | |
| To make illustrations that are clear and clean | |
| I'll take you two hours back before this scene: | |
| Early in the morning when the sun starts to creep | |
| When the birds start to chirp and crackheads go to sleep | |
| Moms was comin' in i heard her keys go clink | |
| Wearin' nothin' but pumps, bikini, and fake mink | |
| Even though she served, for fifty dollars-a-pop | |
| Hardly had enough for rent after jesus re-copped | |
| That day the landlady got her rent befo' he got his knot | |
| Slammed momma's head against the front bolt lock | |
| Then the pump wit 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 tewnty headcrack percussion | |
| And body blows, her body froze from bolo's 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 | |
| "s go to frisco.." (i got very friendly vocal inflections) | |
| Mob a left at macarthur to continue in flight | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a '79 granada last night | |
| Chorus | |
| [boots] | |
| The rain dropped giant pearls, god was pissin' on the world | |
| Or that old man who was snorin' rolled on over and earled | |
| My temperatyre gayge read "cold and blistery" | |
| Spinnin' wheels made each piece of asphault history | |
| This was jesus debut out the penitentiary | |
| Fifteen years, but it seem like a century | |
| See, he went in the pen for some other murder drama | |
| Twelve years old when i wrote him quote i wanna be a pimp comma | |
| You accidentally killed my mom, no playa hation points | |
| You know how bitches act, shit exclamation points | |
| First it was a set up move, then it was the truth | |
| His letters were the only thing 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 the shit if we worship prostitution? | |
| Ain't no women finna die for the same ol' conclusion | |
| Put they life on the line so some other pimp could 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 mother****ers let bygones be bygones | |
| But since i'm macintosh, i'ma double click your icons" | |
| He struggled for life, then gave up the fight | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a '79 granada last night | |
| Chorus |
| zuo ci : Riley | |
| 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 he mixin weed and hop | |
| His head was noddin' up and down like he agreed a lot | |
| Bored, said, " we need a plot," i comply, " let' s leave the spot" | |
| Hopped in the granada, he' s impressed by the beat i got | |
| His name is " hayzoos" but his pimp name is " geezus" | |
| Slapped a hoe to pieces with his plastic prosthesis | |
| " nigga don' t you know that i' m your daddy?" said he | |
| This is true, plus he schooled me for my mackin' degree | |
| " never plea, try not to flee, make niggaz 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 | |
| Makin' sho' that get rubber sound is heard throughout the town | |
| Thirty years ago, jesus could pull a hoe quick | |
| But now he 50 and his belly hangs lower than his dick | |
| Philosophy that he spit stuck in my memory chips | |
| And now he puttin' in a disk of gladys knight and the pips | |
| Then that shit starts to skip, he said, " somebody musta scratch it" | |
| Put the 40 to his lips and poured the contents down the hatchet | |
| Well since my adolescense, cause of his pimp lessons | |
| Smack my woman in the dental just for askin' silly questions | |
| Relationship reduction to either rock the box or suction | |
| Ain' t got no close potnahs, socially i cain' t function | |
| From the pen he 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 hoe? | |
| Clunked the 40 on the flo' and placed his palm on the dash | |
| And wheezed out, " c' mon man, make this mother er mash!" | |
| Ain' t gon' mash too fast, cause my tags ain' t right | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a ' 79 granada last night | |
| Chorus: sung 2x | |
| Oakland do you wanna ride? | |
| I can' t hear you! oakland do you wanna ride tonight? | |
| boots | |
| City lights from far way can makeyou drop yo' jaw | |
| Sparklin' like sequins on a transvestite at mardi gras | |
| There' s beauty in the cracks of the cement | |
| When i was five 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 mattafact, she couldn' t see him like a cataract | |
| And on the track, she went from beautiful to battleaxe | |
| And back at home, she would cry into her pillow | |
| Vomit in the commode, i was six years old | |
| I would crawl onto her lap and we would hug and hold | |
| She asked me what i thought of jesus when he broke off some bread | |
| I said, " he missin' a arm, and he seem like a peepee 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 my momma' s eyes, i was her everything | |
| Before she went out on the stroll | |
| She' d tuck me into bed and sing: | |
| You' re much too beautiful for words 4x | |
| I see the red and white lights as the ambulance flies | |
| Reminds me of midnight in a dopefiend' s eyes | |
| And my 9yearold self as paramedics leave | |
| Left to ball my eyes out on a neighbor' s sleeve | |
| To make illustrations that are clear and clean | |
| I' ll take you two hours back before this scene: | |
| Early in the morning when the sun starts to creep | |
| When the birds start to chirp and crackheads go to sleep | |
| Moms was comin' in i heard her keys go clink | |
| Wearin' nothin' but pumps, bikini, and fake mink | |
| Even though she served, for fifty dollarsapop | |
| Hardly had enough for rent after jesus recopped | |
| That day the landlady got her rent befo' he got his knot | |
| Slammed momma' s head against the front bolt lock | |
| Then the pump wit 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 tewnty headcrack percussion | |
| And body blows, her body froze from bolo' s 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 | |
| " s go to frisco.." i got very friendly vocal inflections | |
| Mob a left at macarthur to continue in flight | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a ' 79 granada last night | |
| Chorus | |
| boots | |
| The rain dropped giant pearls, god was pissin' on the world | |
| Or that old man who was snorin' rolled on over and earled | |
| My temperatyre gayge read " cold and blistery" | |
| Spinnin' wheels made each piece of asphault history | |
| This was jesus debut out the penitentiary | |
| Fifteen years, but it seem like a century | |
| See, he went in the pen for some other murder drama | |
| Twelve years old when i wrote him quote i wanna be a pimp comma | |
| You accidentally killed my mom, no playa hation points | |
| You know how bitches act, shit exclamation points | |
| First it was a set up move, then it was the truth | |
| His letters were the only thing 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 the shit if we worship prostitution? | |
| Ain' t no women finna die for the same ol' conclusion | |
| Put they life on the line so some other pimp could 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 mother ers let bygones be bygones | |
| But since i' m macintosh, i' ma double click your icons" | |
| He struggled for life, then gave up the fight | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a ' 79 granada last night | |
| Chorus |
| zuò cí : Riley | |
| 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 he mixin weed and hop | |
| His head was noddin' up and down like he agreed a lot | |
| Bored, said, " we need a plot," i comply, " let' s leave the spot" | |
| Hopped in the granada, he' s impressed by the beat i got | |
| His name is " hayzoos" but his pimp name is " geezus" | |
| Slapped a hoe to pieces with his plastic prosthesis | |
| " nigga don' t you know that i' m your daddy?" said he | |
| This is true, plus he schooled me for my mackin' degree | |
| " never plea, try not to flee, make niggaz 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 | |
| Makin' sho' that get rubber sound is heard throughout the town | |
| Thirty years ago, jesus could pull a hoe quick | |
| But now he 50 and his belly hangs lower than his dick | |
| Philosophy that he spit stuck in my memory chips | |
| And now he puttin' in a disk of gladys knight and the pips | |
| Then that shit starts to skip, he said, " somebody musta scratch it" | |
| Put the 40 to his lips and poured the contents down the hatchet | |
| Well since my adolescense, cause of his pimp lessons | |
| Smack my woman in the dental just for askin' silly questions | |
| Relationship reduction to either rock the box or suction | |
| Ain' t got no close potnahs, socially i cain' t function | |
| From the pen he 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 hoe? | |
| Clunked the 40 on the flo' and placed his palm on the dash | |
| And wheezed out, " c' mon man, make this mother er mash!" | |
| Ain' t gon' mash too fast, cause my tags ain' t right | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a ' 79 granada last night | |
| Chorus: sung 2x | |
| Oakland do you wanna ride? | |
| I can' t hear you! oakland do you wanna ride tonight? | |
| boots | |
| City lights from far way can makeyou drop yo' jaw | |
| Sparklin' like sequins on a transvestite at mardi gras | |
| There' s beauty in the cracks of the cement | |
| When i was five 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 mattafact, she couldn' t see him like a cataract | |
| And on the track, she went from beautiful to battleaxe | |
| And back at home, she would cry into her pillow | |
| Vomit in the commode, i was six years old | |
| I would crawl onto her lap and we would hug and hold | |
| She asked me what i thought of jesus when he broke off some bread | |
| I said, " he missin' a arm, and he seem like a peepee 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 my momma' s eyes, i was her everything | |
| Before she went out on the stroll | |
| She' d tuck me into bed and sing: | |
| You' re much too beautiful for words 4x | |
| I see the red and white lights as the ambulance flies | |
| Reminds me of midnight in a dopefiend' s eyes | |
| And my 9yearold self as paramedics leave | |
| Left to ball my eyes out on a neighbor' s sleeve | |
| To make illustrations that are clear and clean | |
| I' ll take you two hours back before this scene: | |
| Early in the morning when the sun starts to creep | |
| When the birds start to chirp and crackheads go to sleep | |
| Moms was comin' in i heard her keys go clink | |
| Wearin' nothin' but pumps, bikini, and fake mink | |
| Even though she served, for fifty dollarsapop | |
| Hardly had enough for rent after jesus recopped | |
| That day the landlady got her rent befo' he got his knot | |
| Slammed momma' s head against the front bolt lock | |
| Then the pump wit 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 tewnty headcrack percussion | |
| And body blows, her body froze from bolo' s 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 | |
| " s go to frisco.." i got very friendly vocal inflections | |
| Mob a left at macarthur to continue in flight | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a ' 79 granada last night | |
| Chorus | |
| boots | |
| The rain dropped giant pearls, god was pissin' on the world | |
| Or that old man who was snorin' rolled on over and earled | |
| My temperatyre gayge read " cold and blistery" | |
| Spinnin' wheels made each piece of asphault history | |
| This was jesus debut out the penitentiary | |
| Fifteen years, but it seem like a century | |
| See, he went in the pen for some other murder drama | |
| Twelve years old when i wrote him quote i wanna be a pimp comma | |
| You accidentally killed my mom, no playa hation points | |
| You know how bitches act, shit exclamation points | |
| First it was a set up move, then it was the truth | |
| His letters were the only thing 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 the shit if we worship prostitution? | |
| Ain' t no women finna die for the same ol' conclusion | |
| Put they life on the line so some other pimp could 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 mother ers let bygones be bygones | |
| But since i' m macintosh, i' ma double click your icons" | |
| He struggled for life, then gave up the fight | |
| Me and jesus the pimp in a ' 79 granada last night | |
| Chorus |
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