This is a song about "Saints"

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

She shift my gears and whispered in my ear

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

Heyyy! better daysgot me thinkin' 'bout better days

My rhymes so hot they make the saints sizzle

With a honey in the middle

Cause all you got now is too much room space, shoe space

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

Like hard in the paint, no saints in sight

I'm feeling like things gon' be alright

Used to catch us on the roof or behind the stairs

With my lost saints. i love thee with the breath,

Gold saints i despise so that don't even matter

Leave your show cancelled, leave 'em with no answer