Lyrics:
a fuck, say you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat
Cherry Bomb, the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound
troubled by tribulations in society
The peace of God in heaven Jesus says "you will find in me"
Money power sex drugs entertainment
Wealth material things
Mic in my hand let me get right to it
Homie lost sight but I'm back up right
No God, No me praise Jesus hallelujah
This Yung Titan Yung T, influence
bought with a price, the life of heaven’s blessing
Were we lost in sin? (Yup), Searching after God? (Nope)
But then Jesus stepped in (Mhm), Made us part
the spine from your back
Does that make you angry? Well good cause it should and it's time for the culture to shift
When Jesus said love on your neighbor, he
step in the booth I'm only thinking of you
I hope you're listening
Pay attention
This cancel culture is trigger happy
Anybody can get it
Emotional bigots
the things I proclaim cuz of Jesus' name
If you're too cool to say it I guess that means
I'm not cool enough
I'm not cool enough
I'm not cool enough
I'm not
stop)
All they hate I held my tongue I bit it
They bout it,
but the lord with me I'm with it...
I overcame the flesh just By the Spirit
He lives in me
I'm ever with you lord
My focus is on you
All on you
So my focus must stay on you
Jesus
I'm blinded by this life
And all the lies it tells me
I am
I care about a pharisee
It's relationship over religion just give me Jesus tell them they can have it
Tell them he still healing on the sabbath
I
be worshipped like Jesus
War visual individual incriminate the criminal
My culture nickel put holes in your face like dimples
wake the fuck up
never even called me by my name
You don't have to call me Waylon Jennings
And you don't have to call me Charlie Pride
And you don't have to call me
never even called me by my name
You don't have to call me Waylon Jennings
And you don't have to call me Charlie Pride
And you don't have to call me
Post Class
Post Race
Post Age
Post Gender
Post Sex
Post Oppression
Post Religion
Post Culture
Post Party
Post Imperial
Post Colonial
Post
against his word
They won’t hear it
The culture turned against his love
They won’t receive him
Your sacrifice was not vain
Lord Jesus come back
We ready
of civil rights
Dr. King had a dream, still use to seeing lucid nights
Daydreaming, thinking what if Jesus wasn’t crucified
Flashbacks, grandparents
It's a fact that I know that
The information that I'm purveying
By all these means is
Helping people sort out their lives
Thousands and thousands
Aye Ima leave all the blemishes and the background noises on this one, yea
We do this for the culture
We do this for the people in the bleachers who
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DOUBTIN' THOMAS
from THE PRAYER DRONE. by B.Slade
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labels hang you by a rope now
Sold out
These labels leave your body coked out
No doubt
And on the day you overdose, count
All the album sales
I've been saying I'm the greatest while low-key hanging it up
Can't tell if it's depression or me just not giving a fuck
Album's been done for a year
never even called me by my name.
You don't have to call me Waylon Jennings.
And you don't have to call me Charlie Pride.
And you don't have to call
Belt buckle's a decending dove
Hang a chrome fish on my truck
They'll know we're Christians by our love
... Of junk
All my Jesus Junk
Yeah, my Jesus
to top charts
I don't know what happened, wanting to blow rap
You lose soul and passion for the flows and the tracks
Radio's lacking, controlled by
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