The Resurrection

The Resurrection Lyrics

[Intro : Dom Kennedy]
Let’s bow our head, both hands f**k it

[Chorus: Dom Kennedy] 2x
Lord bless our food
Bless our mood
Bless our homies
Bless our girl
Bless our thoughts
Bless our ad-libs

This is non fiction
This is non fiction

[Verse 1: Dom Kennedy]
I’m tired of f**king these f**king these ungrateful girls
Tried to go big on me told her don’t do that
Feelings up a trial let my lungs collapse
Woke up this morning b**ch I’m done with rap

I need something realer
This ain’t no run up to the mill
This Aliyah’s one in a million but still y’all boys don’t feel
I set examples for the children
K live doing (?) appeals
Standout like Jameis Winston around these Dilfords
The hood Quincy Tarantino jacket real fur
Told her don’t suck me off we gotta chill first
Jay Skill say he coming after Spielberg
I rather live in St. — than see trial
Hit Pacific Diner Car then blow a cloud
This AMG is what we floating in now
Time heals open wounds reconcile

[Chorus: Dom Kennedy]
Lord bless our food
Bless our mood
Bless our homies
Bless our girl
Bless our thoughts
Bless our ad-libs

This is non fiction
This is non fiction

[Verse 2: Dom Kennedy]
We need a SOS
I think we need a SOS
For all this Mack of Love
Running to Vegas let’s peace up
Bump into Karrchue while eating brunch
We use to stay at the flamingo can’t even front
Told myself I gotta be rich at least once
So asked Gavin McNeal he know what’s up
As long as we got each other we got enough
Signing docs at the house gave me paper cuts
I wished that for my life and my dead niggas
I can feel your soul bumping through the system
We use to drink and drive out to riverside
Living dangerous as f**k
These snipers ain’t enough to get me 15 bucks
What am I suppose to do with that
I’m getting skinny but I’m counting racks
Health is wealth what’s going on she ain’t calling back
I done really f**ked up this time
Look like I done really really f**ked up this time
I’m off from January until December
Alkaline water and tequila in my liver
Smoke this club papers with the kush in the center
Never no cocaine in it
I can’t hang with it
I might jump, I already wore my Armani suit too much

[Chorus: Dom Kennedy]
Lord bless our food
Bless our mood
Bless our homies
Bless our girl
Bless our thoughts
Bless our ad-libs

This is non fiction
This is non fiction

Give credit where it’s due at
Give credit where it’s due at
SOS, I think we need a SOS
Yeah, yeah