Holly Swag - Video

(Alright, let's preach.)

Patek on my wrist, gold rope 'round my throat,
This ain't Photoshop, bitch, this is God's own quote.
Got that communion powder right under my nose,
The party never stops when the Holy Father shows.

We're sippin' holy wine 'til our holy spirits float,
Every sermon that I quote bought myself another boat.
We bless our offshore stash where the taxman cannot reach,
Then feed you holy crackers every time we stand and preach.

My life is all aligned, like the cross on my attire,
My pockets stuffed with holy cash, and burning with desire.
We know the gospel backwards, every single line,
But we know "swag" better, and that feels more divine.

I'm pouring holy oil on some model's thighs,
Your girl is like the Flat Earth—all just empty lies.
Every single day, a hundred sinners kiss my wood,
Your chick gets so damn wet, I make a biblical flood.

By the way, I've never seen God, so I guess he isn't real!
("And I ain't seen your dick, so what's your fucking deal?")

You think I ain't a big shot? Boy, you better make the sign,
I'll excommunicate your ass from this holy scene of mine.
I'll crash down on your girl like a heaven-sent plague,
Then I'll rise up inside her—that's the Second Coming, babe.

The baddest, wicked sinners all line up to confess,
She knelt before my pulpit, said her life's a total mess.
"Forgive me, Father," she whispered, tears upon her face,
I said, "Just open up your mouth and receive God's saving grace."

On my private jet, I'm flying higher than the rest,
Gloria in excelsis, putting faith to the test.
In my hot tub, I'm baptizin' whores in champagne foam,
My bond with your wife's tighter than my bond with Rome.

"On your knees," I command her, and she whispers, "Yes."
Then the holy water showered down upon her face and chest.
Now come and touch the relics, pay the fee, don't be shy,
This divine rod of comfort's gonna make you testify.

Hey, you worthless peasant, drop your cash into the plate,
For my custom Rolls-Royce and to seal your wretched fate.
We burned them in the Dark Ages, and we're bringing back the fire,
You won't find anyone richer, I'm the holiest supplier.

I'm the broker between God and your capital desires,
For a symbolic payment, I'll absolve you from hell's fires.
You feel so much better when you listen to my verse...
Just one thing truly scares me: what if this shit's not a test?