Chuck Strangers – St. Peter Lyrics

[Verse]
Too much red wine, head spinning
Took to crib with all my winnings, bottom of the ninth inning
Talked to God and I forgive him the way he had us living
When you down for life bro it ain't no quitting
Clock ticking, voices in my head singing
They telling me to go out swinging
Hunger change your disposition when there's only Oatmeal in the kitchen
Two bowls help me must ambition
Bring the Medina, then fruition, niggas fold with these conditions
It's just an expedition, it's clear we made the right decisions
U-turns on the road to pedition, on my own velition
Repetition got me shitting on my competition on my own compositions
I ain't in this position, for no reason
Four seasons, niggas with drawings and low Caesars
Dick teasers, they ride with [?] Bimmer
It's good credit, I know you see us
Wipe niggas on the screen, they tryna cheat us
Who I see in my mind's eye, I'm knowing I could be it
My big homie, he sell weed and Uber out his Prius
Don't mean he ain't a genius, it's preparation
Ain't seen no opportunity, I pay him now he moving me
[Chorus]
Head spinning, blowing loud
Saint Peter calling down
I plead and tell him "Not now" (Not Now)
Head spinning, blowing loud
Saint Peter calling down
I plead and tell him "Not now" (Not Now, uh)
Head spinning, blowing loud
Saint Peter calling down
I plead and tell him "Not now" (Please)
There's still seeds in the ground (Facts)
There're seeds in the ground