and the roving drones This is why hell is underground Like a reclaimed bad part of town We don't want to lose our souls We're the saints who don't want
now it's all blue It looks whack, but it's compact And works like brand new I had found an old Greyhound But it wasn't my scene I'm underground at the
she's caving in There's no water on the land And it's all because of sin Saint Augustine in his slumber Feels the depths of his own soul Saint Bernadette
s full of bitches An ounce of erb and 17 switches Who's that drunk that slurs and spit? "Saint" Who gets trashed and likes to talk some shit? "Saint"
all because of the sun in your eyes Low life, low life You can have it all but not at all fill that hole You can make this deal go underground All the saints
Buried alive within this cell A shadow cast upon my fate Deliver me to the one who waits Guilt, regret and innocence Full of lies and corruption Suffocate while the worms infest Underground
How can this be? Why is he the chosen one? Saint gone astray With a scepter and a gun Learn to believe In the mighty and the strong Come, bleed the beast
Jesus and all his saints couldn't save our wretched face And no man parting some sea could keep you from me We had to walk away from the streets that
'm well connected, I got wolves over there and niggaz that Act like pitbulls over here, ya I'm just doin' my 1 2 and shit She's shakin' it, doin? that Saint
crazy and as foolish as she wants to be Because her old school ways are practical. Technicalities are perfectly sane. I'm saying I ain't never seen a saint
Listen, all you butchers, saints and sinners We've all been here before All you martyrs and saviors Go through the same door Hey, listen all you butchers, saints
Now get the guns, the drugs, From my generation. I'll take the fall, the saints, across the nation. And it's the sex, the gods, the freaks, the frauds
taxi out to vegas While the average r'n'b group is doing a promo concert Ignoring your phone calls from broke labels Who try to put out underground mc
sit beside you Making your heart race Cold sweat is runnin' You've got a one-way ticket Runnin' from your brow To six feet underground
Release your head from the world keep yourself underground no one understands your mind grown tired of screaming and talking to the walls no one understands
time Tried to relate to a nuclear age But we lost our souls in a pinball game This is it like the way we planned Not a church of saints but a church of
heads asume when we come, they get to bone We creepin' when we roam, we tear da club up 'cause we (MAFIA MAFIA) like whut The underground's finest,
to be reckoned with Now don't you know I can pull it off slow But then again I could be droppin jams Advertising bpm (Saint) No more time to be