Sell Me Yo Soul

I was born a slave, and I’m still a slave
Just because I misbehaved
And you mutha fuckas still tryin' to calm me down
When the priest stole your money and he skipped town
When you went to church, you said your soul was sold
In God we trust, you gave the priest your bank roll
You sold your soul to a man talkin' about God
Give him money so he can pay his rent, and that’s odd
But he don’t stay in the ghetto, but yet you do
So are you fuckin' him, or is he fuckin' you?
Give me your money says the man in the white collar
Praise the lord, as he hollas takin' all the dollas
This ain’t blasphemy or sacri-religion
It’s just a brotha tellin' you how it is
And I’ma tell this priest, rippin' off my people as the story is told
Sell me yo' soul
This ain’t Hellen Keller so how can you hear me
I once saw a priest make a blind woman see
Or was it that the woman was never blind, and he was lyin'
I’m here to tell ya that the priest was out his mind
He made a lady get out her wheel chair and walk
He’ll say abra cabdabra and the mute man will talk
Then he’ll pass the plate while your mind is in a mental state
Changin' up the words in the Bible so you’ll think it’s great
Little do you know the Father’s robbin' you blind
Cuz he know you don’t know, God is the state of lien'
Your praisin' the priest instead of praisin' the Lord
And Sunday is pay day for him, cuz that’s what he’s there for
Give me your money, quarters and dimes and pennies
Whatever you got, he’ll take it, cuz he’ll take anything
And you wonder why he drive a Cadillac in gold
Cuz you’re selling your soul
The priest is just jackin' so how can you bust him?
He don’t pay taxes, so how can you trust him?
Look at Tammy and Jimmy Baker
The mother fucker was a fuckin' liar, a fuckin' faker
Takin' your money and stone cold bankin'
Dead bodies stacked up, and stankin'
Just a fucked up way to be
All you mutha fuckas out here poisonin' soceity
And you say, thou shall not steal
When you fuckin' go get a new Cadilac Seville
And when you take off that black dress
You got a brand new silk suit, cleaned and pressed
I rest my case, cuz a preacher can’t tell me shit, he don’t see race
And I’ma say this shit coast to coast
You’s a goddamn liar if you say you caught the Holy Ghost
Some have as the story is told
But if you have, then sell me yo soul