Ya'll move with timidity | Your practices are too gimmicky | Y'all pitch it as piety | You're lookin' like an enemy. . .
Somehow ended up here Where they amazed to learn that I used to run crack Took G to cook it He took me down south Crooked paths through them Carolinas a straight shot
When you fall off the bike and scrape your knee, you simply put some alcohol on it, bandage it, and hop back on the bike because you got places to go and life does not slow down for you to sulk in your failures.
We’re on the road with Christ | Dust on our feet | Nothing to eat | Nowhere to lay our heads, no sleep. Coded pattern of speech that the goats can’t breach | Told them slatterns this king brings hope to thee | Us folks will shatter the dreams of these “popes” to be. They’re puppets on a string with no authority. . .
I’m just recollectin’ about life before I stepped in line with the Christ. Lime is the light we pursued through the night trying to change up life. Grasping at straws because our goals ain’t right. . .