Whoa, the devil has me sinnin’…
Oh, may God wash away all my demons…
Say you won’t stop my healin’.
Locked up, fallen angel,
I’m trapped in with him.
Whoa, in confession I hear weeping.
Oh, Father, my unanswered prayers have me weak, eyy.
“Eyy—uh, I don’t know what to write about.
What’s goin’ on in my life?”
You know what I’m about — straight sinnin’ till the day I’m winnin’.
Now I’m in the booth, sippin’ Bailey’s from the pastor boot.
Think he ‘bout to boot me — hearing sins I’ve admitted.
When I’m zooted, don’t be mad if I overcommit it.
Hit ‘em with the sins in my tub, wash away like a baptism;
I’m weird ‘cause I have a little bit of a ‘tism.
—
“Confession.”
—
Confrontin’ my inner demons — black soul,
Cold like the ice in my glass.
Whiskey on the rocks, hit the port, now we tie a rope to the dock.
When I’m writin’, I’m climbin’ straight to the top.
When I pause — I fall, and the beat just drops.
Rappin’ somethin’ evil,
A sinner can’t find peace when she took more than just a piece outta my heart.
Pickin’ up the shreds of my sanity — don’t make me break down,
Or you get beat like Calamity — Ganon.
Shouldn’t have to explain my reference — take a deep breath, citation.
Write a ticket, pay the bill, tip the waiter — splittin’ paper.
Like a hidden figure, crunchin’ numbers during the smoke session.
Don’t get confused why I don’t fuck with you — middle finger.
Whoa, the devil has me sinnin’…
Oh, may God wash away all my demons…
Say you won’t stop my healin’.
Locked up, fallen angel,
I’m trapped in with him.
Whoa, in confession I hear weeping.
Oh, Father, my unanswered prayers have me weak, eyy.
—
“Confession”
—
Eyy— Father, you still there? (heh)
Got a flask in the pew, don’t stare.
Told you I’d quit, but I lied again,
Guess the holy water just turn to gin.
Said a Hail Mary with a slur on the tongue,
Angel on my shoulder got tired, then hung.
Demons laughin’ like it’s open mic night,
Tellin’ me “spit that sin,” so I write, I write—
Confess with a pen, like ink’s my priest,
Every verse a scar, every bar a beast.
You think I’m lost, nah— I’m explorin’ the maze,
Burnt Bible pages lightin’ up the haze.
Can’t tell if I’m prayin’ or performin’ again,
If God’s in the booth, hope He brought a friend.
I’m at the edge of grace, toes hangin’ off,
Say a psalm, take a shot, then I cough—
“Forgive me, I’ve been sinnin’…”
“Don’t know if I’m losin’ or winnin’…”
Last shot, last sin, last prayer — swear it.
But I’m starin’ at the bottle like, “Father, spare it.”
Ink still wet, soul still stained,
Guess I like the pain more than I hate the shame.
“And Father… I’ll be back next week.”
“Confession… never ends.”
WeirdFlexOK
