wages of sin - mr. voodoo lyrics
agu (aka mr. voodoo) * “wages of sin”
[emcee(s): agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
[producer(s): [?]]
[scratches: [?]]
[intro: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
yeah, yeah. you know who this is: agu. and what you’re about to hear ain’t no bullsh*t, gangster thug sh*t. this be that criminal sh*t ‘cause i can only speak what i know, have seen, did (uh huh), you know’m saying? (uh huh) so i’ma drop it like this
[verse 1: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
n*ggas that i know don’t give a f*ck about
rapping, they ‘bout scr*pping, they ‘bout clapping
guns that heat underneath the glowing stars leave you
laid up in the o.r. with bullet*hole scars. for the
love of money, rolls cars, deluxe sedans, you’ll be
wearing white sheets like the ku klux klan. a crime
away from some lifer sh*t, trying to touch grams got me
trife and sh*t like, “f*ck a rhyme and that cypher sh*t.” the only thing
resembling rappers on these streets is snitches ‘cause they get
bagged for bids, ad*libs, then add fibs. older
folks dismissed us, called us bad kids, then have the nerve
to diss us when we’re grown and make the same mistakes our dads did
it’s an unholy cycle, but i’m trying to see
diamonds with more baguettes than the holy bible. whether it’s
pages or pen or waving 12*gauges at men
i’ma collect the wages of sin
[hook: samples with scratches]
“i collect the wages of sin” * sample from mr. voodoo on natural elements * “bust mine” (x8)
[verse 2: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
from rappers with platinum wishes, street ballers with hoop
dreams, ruthless teams with schemes to scoop this cream. moms
held me in her arms, hopes of me being something, never prayed
‘cause i ain’t getting on my knees for nothing. don’t get me wrong
i tried to repent and repel, but the smell of spent
sh*lls intoxicate like the scent of l’s. moms
believe in g, i believe in g’s. i guess now we
both believe in something devoutly. i’m entranced by a harlot
torch crown, robe, complexion ain’t scarlet, but, still
she be satan incarnate, from the bowels of slave ships
vomit, then strips in streets, not the mayflower, paired us with heat
to stay in power. my sh*t’s up creek like there’s
a price over my head, feel like christ trying to feed a thousand
mouths with a piece of fish and a loaf of bread. whether it’s
pages or pen or waving 12*gauges at men
i’ma collect the wages of sin
[hook: samples with scratches]
“i collect the wages of sin” * sample from mr. voodoo on natural elements * “bust mine” (x8)
[verse 3: agu (aka mr. voodoo)]
we used
to pitch quarters on the block, now we pitch quarters
of blocks and slaughter the block. it was all about
having fun, hitting hoes, now my dusk getting cold. only our
guns talk, and we live by an unwritten code. the best of friends
but now my friends have flipped over chips and whips
and bust guns and empty clips mark the end of our friendship
brain sick, at each other we aim and l!ck, it’s like
the game’s a chick getting f*cked by everyone in the same clique
it’s for the best though. keep your vest close ‘cause n*ggas
blast and let the lead poison your system like asbestos
young heads poisoned by criminal manisfestos
‘til their brains egg yolk. n*gga, i’m dead*broke
no sh*lls, use guns with empty clips to undress fools
soul’s in h*ll, i’m skinny*dipping in a cesspool. whether it’s
pages or pen or waving 12*gauges at men
women, or children, i’ma sin ‘til i win
[hook: samples with scratches]
“i collect the wages of sin” * sample from mr. voodoo on natural elements * “bust mine” (x8)
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