Church

Charlie Murphy, Fabolous

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Charlie Murphy

Charles Quinton Murphy (July 12, 1959 – April 12, 2017) was an American actor, comedian, and writer. Murphy is best known as a writer and cast member of the Comedy Central sketch-comedy series Chappelle's Show. He was the older brother of comedian Eddie Murphy and the older half-brother of Vernon Lynch Jr. more »


Year:
2004
4:55
83 
#2

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[Reverend preaching]
Ha ha ha haa
Brothers and sisters we're gathered here today
to listen to a young man that's on fiiya
You sittin in the church wit Reverend Charlie Murphy
and I'ma bring it to ya wit brother F-A-be	-O-L-O-you-S
Fabolous

[Fab:] Preach, Brother preach
[Rev.:] Fabolous
[Fab:] Preach Brother preach
[Rev.:] Preach to 'em Brother, Church
[Fab:] Yea, Uh.. uh.. uh.. uh

[Verse 1]
Yo, I preach through my raps
God is watchin me I still reach to my strap
Broads is watchin me they want to leech to my trap
Tha Jesus Christ on my neck reach to my lap
I teach you to rap in my Sunday School
These bitches get a one day rule
You gotta f*ck be Monday, cool?
Or she gotta stroke a stick like the hun play pool
If not you gotta walk like a runway fool
Catch me in the moon shine or the sun ray jewels
If you keep sayin your prayers maybe one day you'll..
..be blessed like me 'til then keep stompin in your Air Force O-N-E-S Nikes
They should make scriptures wit my flows
I'm the young Bishop Don Juan that stripped ya for your hoes
So if I throw a dollar at ya scream Hallelujah
While I grab the neck of my robe and pop a collar to ya
Church

[Reverend preaching]
Now in this world that we live in, there's all kinds of pimps
You got ya playas, ya ballas, ya macs, ya gorrilla
pimps that take what they want
Ya all-star pimps... Pimps that (?)
Pimps wit nothin but the Gators on ya feet (Preach to em brother)
Nice pimps, mean pimps

[Verse 2]
I feel like the angel of God
All I gotta do is drive the Range through and nod
It's like I was put here to put layers in the air
Put squares in my ear, put squares in the chair
Put pairs in the rear
I even put 20 inch footwear in my spare
Lord knows I gotta stay on them spinners
Dis verse is like grace that you say on your dinners
Girls come wit me knowin that they gonna be sinners
But, I'ma sense of relief
And I ain't never been a trick kinda like its against my belief
If she got it from me then I'm convinced she a thief
But they say God giveth and He taketh away
And I can do the same thing when I shake with the 'K
If a nigga make a mistake wit the pay, Goddamit
At the club I get right in
So if heaven got a ghetto I should fit right in
God loves me

[Reverend preaching]
Now just what kind of ho are you?
Are you a tough ho, or a soft ho? (That's right)
Are you a big ho, or a little ho? (Lil' teenie weenie)
A domestic ho, or an international ho?
A rich ho, or a broke ass ho?

[Verse 3]
Yea, me momma got my name from the Baptist who made
tha wrong moves wit the women and died for it
You make the wrong moves when you come and you try for it
New York City of God
I 'den saved some of New York's prettiest broads
I'm spittin the gospel
I hit my apostle's wit the coke that'll heal a sick
soon as it get in they nostrils
A Dros Trios, bring the organs on ya
A 40-Caliber'll turn ya to a organ donor
And a day or two, you'll be a morgue aroma
While I go city to city fillin the pieu's up
I ask God to forgive me while I'm fillin the Uz' up
Demons won't let me see a man fillin my shoes up
I ease 'em wit a sermon, but that ain't hard
When I'm in the Beamer before they released 'em to the Germans
You prolly got the man you love wit you
But wouldn't you rather have the Man above wit you?
Can I get an Amen

[Reverend talking]
Now some of ya'll are pimps, And some of ya'll are hoes
But the rest.. the rest of ya'll.. don't think I don't know
Ya just a hater.. They hate what you got
They put a black eye on on the game whenever they play
They piss in the pool, And they fart on the elevator
Then look you in the face, Like they think you did it
They hate change (They hate change)
And they hate progress
They hate me and they hate you
They hate they own momma
'cause they think its her fault that they ain't got shit
But I'm here to tell ya today
That if you a hater
Then you are the outter take or your own business (Amen)
And someody just put 25 dollars in the collection plate
So I'ma go up on the corner
And buy me a fish sandwich
why'all hold it down, I'll be right back
Tha Reverend Charlie Brown
And don't you ever forget
Fabolous, Fabolous, Fabolous, Fabolous
Bitch ass motherfuckers
[fades out]

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Written by: GERARD HARMON, JOHN JACKSON, JOHN DAVID JACKSON, CHARLES MURPHY, KEITH WILKINS

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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