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collection plate - stann smith lyrics

[intro]
name’s smith

[verse 1]
he wakes up, cold sweat, p-n-s erect
escort sleepin’ next to him ready for s-x
in a motel, paid the whole bill
wife alone, thinkin’
“yo, will he ever come back to me at home?”
iphone ring, he check it, it’s the alarm that he set
to make sure he leaves before seven
shower, grab his towel, brush his t–th and grab a breath mint
scour the room, make sure he didn’t leave evidence
hop inside the lexus
gps to his next destination, take off, no hesitation
couple red lights, it only took five minutes
park, turn off the headlights and head right inside
where he was greeted by the bishop
he went up to greet the people
had to adjust from all the liquor
he finished drinking in the system
told his sister mary to tell the choir to sing a hymnal
when he come back, there he’ll continue
in the bathroom throwing up
people known’ like “what’s the holdup?”
quite sure that they can smell the odor
he pulled himself together, though
said a prayer before collection trays
is p-ssed out to the sections
said his farewells, “anybody got confessions?”
need em’ in the room by eleven, most left
ten fifty-seven, man, it almost crept
he sat in the room but he almost slept
one person after another, no trouble
till’ he heard a voice sorta familiar say something
now it resonate, she said, “yes, my name is desarae
and i’m the escort that had s-x just yesterday
at a motel, [?], i had a couple drinks or whatever before we lay
i didn’t get to think or tell him before i open up my legs
then i got aids”
he jumped up, wanted to punch her, grab her
people on line didn’t know what happened
they couldn’t recognize it was the man that cleaned sins to laughter
the mister goodie two-shoe pastor

- stann smith lyrics

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