(Intro)
Drowning in that Holy Water
Baptizing in that Holy Water
Hoping for that ventilation
Dying with no ventilation
Holy Water can't save you
From the grips of Satan
And we hope that we make it

(Verse 1)
I got you running from the lyricist
Picture me rolling in a Cadillac
Misery, hearse I’m bout to capitalize
On every bill and Benjamin
Appetizer first I'm onto every
Word to imagery
Fitting in worst
I’m drilling every little bitch
That went ghost on the hurt
That i felt food stamps couldn't help
I was gravity burst right
Into they pouring liquor
Add kerosine to it

(Bridge)
Word around town they say
That Hollywood is burning up
The city is in grips and
I have got away with murder yup
Hanging onto faith
Dammit God i think we made it
Then he gladly lit the furnace up
& burn the celebration
Sign it on the line