Handel: Samson HWV 57 / Act 1 - Air: "God of our fathers"

歌詞

Card player #1: Well, looks like you just about cleaned everybody out, fella. You haven't lost a hand since you got to deal. What's the secret of your success? Sundance Kid: Prayer [Hook x2] Our Father who art in heaven Hollows hit my man, they sparked my brethren Hurtin', so I'm certain won't be good today All I ask Lord, is Lord look away [Verse 1] Pardon leech, I'm hard to reach by design The streets of crime, defined treats in my mind Ate crumbs from the great slums, now it's feast when I dine Unless it's pork on my fork, never breaching the swine On naked tracks, state the facts and feats of my prime Hood divine, never put a nine to meek or to kind Mind at rest, times I'm blessed, sleep on my spine This wizardry, delivered me the flyest flute What I summon have 'em dumbin' like a cauldron of some eye of newt Was a young esquire in bum attire, jum supplier Hunger made me gun for hire Funny how they used to run from me, now they come admire A man now, stand down, sick of bleeding I'm into reading Enough point work, joints hurt, and my shit's receding Off main strip, not soft same clip Was quick to treason, now equipped with reason Envisioned cages not stages, when I had nickels squeezing Was miffed and grieving, lost much, thoughts touched Now pray for the gift of breathing [Hook x2] [Verse 2] I seek revenge with sleeping mens, ride or die Most definite Old Testament, eye for eye Damn straight, can't wait to put snub to their shirt I'm out for hustler justice soon as they shovel the dirt Arm in drawer, pull it out palming for her My diet is veggie, but the desi is a carnivore Drab gutter color, dressed for killing, air 'em out No guess work, expert, press civilians for his whereabouts Streets leak it, not a secret, I'm advertising I see him let it buck, fuck strategizing This attack won't bring my man back, the pastor right But since he popped, now my man got the drop in the afterlife [Hook x2] [Outro] Forgive me for what I'm about to do