Backseat Preacher

Turn that up, baby Mmm, that’s that backseat sermon right there Sunday suit But it’s Thursday night Got my rent in my pocket And my wrongs in my mind Mama said pray But the block said pay So I hustle in the hallway Tryna make my own way I been running' from the mirror I been raisin' all this smoke Every promise getting' thinner Every word sounding' like a joke I’m a backseat preacher, talkin' big, living' small Lay my troubles on the vinyl, let the needle take it all Got a choir full of sinners, singing' “Lord, I’ve been wrong” If redemption’s in the rhythm Then save me in this song Gold tooth grin But my heart got cracks Got a love in the kitchen Packing' up her last bags She said, “Baby, you shine But you burn too fast” Left her ring on the table Like a clock with no hands Every lie taste bitter Every truth cut deep Got a smile in the daytime But I’m crying' in my sleep