Weeks Broken Body
Cadillac conversations buried bodies and broken bones
They’re calling up widowed women on their rotary telephones
A rich old man in a pin striped suit has the money to guess your fate
You walk around town throwing money around and you’ll end up in a lake
Power, pride, and prophet putting whole families to rest
You mess around town putting people down but now your messing with the best
Big bodied cars and we got bodies in the back
Taped up and tied well it was all over respect
Some call us smooth well some would even call us blessed
But if you call us anything other than that you’ll get a bullet in your chest
Power, pride, and prophet putting whole families to rest well you mess around town putting
People down but now your messing with the best
Dead bodies and pale blue faces
Broken car windows and empty shell cases
You can pick the time people and places and I’ll show you exactly how my pistol tastes
It’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold and it’s just for you
Delivering cargo and our trunk was white as snow
Stopped at the railroad tracks pushed some cargo in our nose
Got to the warehouse and we started to unload
Something wasn’t right here it was too quiet and cold
Guns were drawn in setting suns, cries echoed like a ghost
He walked to me, I, on my knees and whistled as he got close
With a grin eyes full of sin all I did was pray for hope
He put his gun under my chin and exhaled a breath of smoke
He said think about the people you’ve hurt and the men you’ve killed
Think about all the funerals and the coffins you have filled
Dead bodies and pale blue faces, broken car windows and empty shell cases
You can pick the time people and places and I’ll show you exactly how my pistol tastes
It’s cold, its cold, its cold and it’s just for you
