Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada Last Night

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The Coup

The Coup is a political hip hop group based in Oakland, California. It formed as a three-member group in 1990 with emcees Raymond "Boots" Riley and E-Roc along with DJ Pam the Funkstress. E-Roc left on amicable terms after the group's second album but appears on the track "Breathing Apparatus" on The Coup's third album, Steal This Album. With the release of that album in 1998, The Coup began incorporating the live instrumentation from their recordings into their live show. The Coup has, since that time, been a full band. more »

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Well, he was smilin' like a vulture as he rolled up the horticulture 
Ignited it, and said, "I hope the vapors don't insult ya" 
What I replied denied, but he mixin weed and hop 
His head was noddin' up and down like he agreed a lot 
Bored, said, "We need a plot," I comply, "Let's leave the spot" 
Hopped in the Granada, he's impressed by the beat I got 
His name is "hay-zoos" but his pimp name is "gee-zus" 
Slapped a hoe to pieces with his plastic prosthesis 
"Nigga don't you know that I'm your daddy?" said he 
This is true, plus he schooled me for my mackin' degree 
"Never plea, try not to flee, make niggaz pee when you stick around" 
This man my momma had found taught me to put it down 
I press the gas to the ground to show that I'm a hound 
Makin' sho' that get rubber sound is heard throughout the town 
Thirty years ago, Jesus could pull a hoe quick 
But now he 50 and his belly hangs lower than his dick 
Philosophy that he spit stuck in my memory chips 
And now he puttin' in a disk of Gladys Knight and the Pips 
Then that shit starts to skip, he said, "Somebody musta scratch it" 
Put the 40 to his lips and poured the contents down the hatchet 
Well since my adolescense, cause of his pimp lessons 
smack my woman in the dental just for askin' silly questions 
Relationship reduction to either rock the box or suction 
Ain't got no close potnahs, socially I cain't function 
From the pen he would scribe, on how to survive: 
"Don't be Microsoft, be Macintosh with a Hard Drive" 
Used to tell me all the time to keep a bitch broke 
Did I mention that my momma was his number one hoe? 
Clunked the 40 on the flo' and placed his palm on the dash 
and wheezed out, "c'mon man, make this motherfucker mash!" 
Ain't gon' mash too fast, cause my tags ain't right 
Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night 

Oakland do you want to ride? 
I can't hear you! Oakland do you want to ride tonight? 

Oakland do you want to ride? 
I can't hear you! Oakland do you want to ride tonight? 

City lights from far way can makeyou drop yo' jaw 
Sparklin' like sequins on a transvestite at Mardi Gras 
There's beauty in the cracks of the cement 
When I was five I hopped over them wherever we went to prevent 
whatever it was that could break my momma's back 
Little did I know that it would roll up in a Cadillac 
And matta-fact, she couldn't see him like a cataract 
And on the track, she went from beautiful to battleaxe 
And back at home, she would cry into her pillow 
Vomit in the commode, I was six years old 
I would crawl onto her lap and we would hug and hold 
She asked me what I thought of Jesus when he broke off some bread 
I said, "He missin' a arm, and he seem like a pee-pee head" 
She said, "Don't cuss," and my teeth to go brush 
And get ready for bed, and the toilet to flush 
With tears in my momma's eyes, I was her everything 
Before she went out on the stroll 
She'd tuck me into bed and sing: 
You're much too beautiful for words (4X) 
I see the red and white lights as the ambulance flies 
Reminds me of midnight in a dopefiend's eyes 
And my 9-year-old self as paramedics leave 
Left to ball my eyes out on a neighbor's sleeve 
To make illustrations that are clear and clean 
I'll take you two hours back before this scene: 
Early in the morning when the sun starts to creep 
When the birds start to chirp and crackheads go to sleep 
Moms was comin' in I heard her keys go clink 
Wearin' nothin' but pumps, bikini, and fake mink 
Even though she served, for fifty dollars-a-pop 
Hardly had enough for rent after Jesus re-copped 
That day the landlady got her rent befo' he got his knot 
Slammed momma's head against the front bolt lock 
Then the pump wit one arm done harm 
Reached back and plowed into her head like a farm 
Never saw the act, locked in the back, I was cussin' 
Heard the blap blap of tewnty headcrack percussion 
and body blows, her body froze from bolo's to the spine 
I was hysterically cryin', all she could do was whine 
She didn't even have the strength to say, "I love you Boo" 
But I said it to her and she knew that I knew 
She was dead by the time the ambulance got on the case 
But I never will forget the plastic hand stuck in her face 
Stop at the intersection to ask Jesus 'bout directions 
"S go to Frisco.." (I got very friendly vocal inflections) 
Mob a left at MacArthur to continue in flight 
Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night 

Oakland do you want to ride? 
I can't hear you! Oakland do you want to ride tonight? 

Oakland do you want to ride? 
I can't hear you! Oakland do you want to ride tonight? 

The rain dropped giant pearls, God was pissin' on the world 
or that old man who was snorin' rolled on over and earled 
My temperatyre gayge read "cold and blistery" 
Spinnin' wheels made each piece of asphault history 
This was Jesus debut out the penitentiary 
Fifteen years, but it seem like a century 
See, he went in the pen for some other murder drama 
Twelve years old when I wrote him quote I want to be a pimp comma 
You accidentally killed my mom, no playa hation points 
You know how bitches act, shit exclamation points 
First it was a set up move, then it was the truth 
His letters were the only thing I had as a youth 
But his lopsided game, see, was really counterfeit 
So my little son Dominic thinks that I'm a dick 
Cause I was runnin' 'round like a little baby Jesus 
To me women had to be saints, hoes, or skeezers 
And I don't think that it's gon' end til we make revolution 
But who gon' make the shit if we worship prostitution? 
Ain't no women finna die for the same ol' conclusion 
Put they life on the line so some other pimp could use 'em 
Pulled into a vacant lot, the road to recovery 
Pulled out my pistol as we brushed against the shrubbery 
Jesus said, "Why the hell you pointin' a gat?" 
So I pulled a piece of game I could use out the hat 
I said, "This trip is over, we ain't finna ride on 
This is for my mental and my momma that I cried on 
Microsoft motherfuckers let bygones be bygones 
but since I'm Macintosh, I'ma double click your icons" 
He struggled for life, then gave up the fight 
Me and Jesus the Pimp in a '79 Granada last night 

Oakland do you want to ride? 
I can't hear you! Oakland do you want to ride tonight? 

Oakland do you want to ride? 
I can't hear you! Oakland do you want to ride tonight? 

And I still remember momma 
You're much too beautiful for words
You're much too beautiful for words
You're much too beautiful for words
You're much too beautiful for words

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