Untitled

PASS THAT PLATE RIGHT ON BY ME

Funny Gospel / Southern Soul Comedy Song

Now hold on, Reverend…

Before you start talking about my seed…

I already planted something.

It was called MY LAST DOLLAR!

And I’m trying to see if it’ll grow into some groceries!

I caught three buses just to get to church,

Cold wind blowing, my fingers hurt,

Summer heat had me sweating through my shirt,

But Pastor rolled up in a Rolls-Royce first!

I got twenty dollars, gotta make it last,

Pastor got a driver, rolling by fast,

He said, “Give your offering, don’t hold it back!”

I said, “Pastor, hold up—

I need some money for a Big Mac!”

You said, “Give till it hurts,”

Well, Reverend, I’m already sore!

You passed that plate sixteen times—

I ain’t got nothing left in store!

🎵 Pass that plate right on by me!

I ain't giving up my money!

Not for Tuesday, not for Sunday,

Not for Christmas, not for Monday!

Pass that plate right on by me!

I got bills that wanna find me!

You got Gucci, I got Goodwill—

Reverend, please, just let me live!

Grandma gonna whoop me,

If I give away my rent!

Pass that plate right on by me—

Every single dollar's spent!

Preacher's wife walked through the door,

Looking like she owns the whole mall store,

Gucci on her feet, Louis on her purse,

And Pastor screaming, “Give until it hurts!”

Her hair laid down and her face all beat,

Diamond earrings sparkling under them lights,

Meanwhile I'm sitting in the back row thinking,

“Lord… can you bless me with some groceries tonight?” 

She got a brand-new Cadillac,

I got bus fare in my pocket,

Pastor said, “The church needs giving!”

I said, “Then Pastor, you better unlock your wallet!”

🎵Pass that plate right on by me!

I ain't giving up my money!

Not for gas and not for rent,

I already gave you what I spent!

Pass that plate right on by me!

I got nothing left behind me!

You got diamonds, I got coupons—

Don't be looking at me like I'm the one!

First offering, then another one,

Then a special seed for everyone,

Then a building fund, then the pastor's fund,

Then a “blessing” fund—

Lord, how many funds?!

I counted sixteen plates

Before I found my seat,

By the time they reached my row,

I was hiding underneath the seat!

Pastor said, “We need a private jet

So we can spread the Word around!”

I said, “Pastor, how about a church van

So I can stop walking ten miles to town?” 

Pastor: “Somebody sow a thousand!”

Crowd: “Amen!”

Pastor: “Somebody sow five hundred!”

Crowd: “Amen!”

Pastor: “Somebody sow a hundred!”

Crowd: “Amen!”

Pastor: “Somebody sow twenty!”

Me: “I'M SORRY, REVEREND—

I GOT TWENTY-ONE CENTS!” 

Flashy like a pimp,

Dressed like a clown,

Preaching about blessings

While the collection plate comes around!

You got a mansion,

You got a plane,

You got a Cadillac

With your name in the frame!

But when the poor folks come,

You say, “Give some more!”

Baby, I gave you my last—

Now I'm hungry at the door!

Pass that plate right on by me!

You ain't getting nothing from me!