(We Need a) Soul Surgeon
© 2010
Author: C. E. Chaffin
(We Need a) Soul-Surgeon

We need a soul-surgeon.
We need a soul-surgeon.
We need a soul-surgeon.
We need a soul-surgeon.

You give me the same old shit,
You say that your poop don’t stink--
Slap your face on your stupid head, bi***,
Give your baby browns a blink!
Don’t you see what’s going down,
Don’t you see what the Devil did?
You been living on the up side of town,
Time you came down to the hood
Where you see hope murdered every day,
You see addicts in the street,
Some women flushin’ their dreams away,
Some other bi***es packin’ heat.

We need a soul-surgeon.
We need a soul-surgeon.
We need a soul-surgeon.
We need a soul-surgeon.

You think you’ve been making love
When you’ve only been screwing around,
Shacking up with this dick or that
On your Whitey up side of town.
What happened to your dream of kids,
Of a house to call your own?
Or even working with the poor?
Time to get down to the hood!
Where you see hope murdered every day,
You see addicts in the street,
Some women flushin’ their dreams away,
Some other bi***es packin’ heat.

We need a soul-surgeon. (repeat three more times and out)