This is a song about "Saints"

Jesus christ, the king of these latter-day saints here

While my mom is in the kitchen cookin' up a meal

Baby girl my stroke official

My rhymes so hot they make the saints sizzle

Geechi on her, came back: a million chains

I dont know whether your apostles or saints

Y’all ain’t the praising saints with the perfect angel’s face,

If he don't show up, think i can take his place

You got to have your game tight

Like hard in the paint, no saints in sight

Y’all ain’t the praising saints with the perfect angel’s face,

Wale, real nigga, where the totem, blowin' bomb haze

Go to school today, tomorrow, the day after

Gold saints i despise so that don't even matter