People I want you to
stop toting guns don't shoot. Stop smoking blunts oooooohhh. I've got a song for you.
Syke! Didn't think it was a slow jam, did ya? Didn't think it was an old man, did ya? I hit ya with Scripture, listen to every word I say. The rapper Ambassador's back like a vertebrae. Focused vertically, hoping for the day. When Biblical sense is more common than courtesy.
I envision this hittin' you in the barbershop. Lyrics rushing like wind like when the Spirit of God was
dropped. I can see them sisters in the salon.
Puttin' The Thesis on with some grease in her palm.
Dope tunes boom and they stick in your brain. So when I make a dope tune boom I slip you the name.
Jesus Christ, He wants to get in your frame. He owns it but you're like
homeless, you need Him to slip you some change. And when he does, guess what, life can't stay the same.
And when it does, guess what, Christ can't be to blame.
(Repeat)
People I want you to
stop trading God for loot.
Don't leave this life a fool, I've got a song for you.
Lord, I don't sing but nothing brings more pleasure.
Than to offer you to awful dudes who worship that thing called cheddar. They've never read of your prophets, gospels, or letters. So, they don't know you're hotter than rockin' four sweaters. But that's the job of the Ambassador. Hit mics 'cause it's life after the casket door. You know the hood ain't used to them theological truths. Philosophers snooze; they think belief in God is for fools. And I'll admit the existence of God is harder to prove. But please believe that Jesus is God and you're cool. We can work on unpackin' the intricate plan. God understands, like women say about a sensitive man. Much sin's in a man, through Adam it got into the fam.
Makin' us all prisoners, like when you get sent to the can. And that's trouble like when Blacks bump into the Klan. But then a infinite hand went and sent us a Lamb.
1, 2 and we you don't stop.
And we won't quit. If not for you, Lord, we won't spit. We do this for all the hip-hop heads, spit Christ cause He's life for all the hip-hop dead.
(Repeat)
Yeah, you see we want to talk to the culture. I mean, why all the killin' and the fightin', and the fussin' and the drugs, when I've got a song for you.
(Three)
Syke! Aaahhh, the rawness is back. Tell your boys the Lord uses the rawest of raps. The hardcorest of tracks cause hardcoreness attracts. Some hymns are not a good hook like a that's wack. But He's sovereign he can take from the boringest camp, save a thug with the accordion and a Gregorian chant. That's why even though hip-hop is full of ungodliness, God can twist hip-hop around, really it's obvious. Got to be gospel, can't say, "Really it's positive." The rugged cross is the object that we've got to lob to kids, whether they catch it or not. The method is not the main thing long as the right message is dropped. Why not? You're actin' like this surprises y'all. The gospel's flex fit, yes it's one size fits all. From the murderer to the old lady who prays, to the man that's fit as a fiddle or the baby with AIDS.
1, 2 and we don't stop, and we won't quit. If not for you, Lord, we won't spit. We do this for all the hip-hop heads. Spit Christ cause He's life for all the hip-hop dead.
People, I want you to
hunger and want the truth.
If there's no want in you,
I've got a song for you.
People I want you to
hunger and want the truth.
Don't leave this life a fool. I've got a song for you.
