Lecrae: Ayo, dial the seven digits, call a chemist I compound underground sounds with pronouns so pronounce Our name right, rappers who take a stand, B-Boy Pop the lock on minds of these slaves until they free, boy Mischievous soul who don’t get it, so we spit it Where the smoke is blowing loud and the crowds are looking frigid It’s cold on the road, so the bars got to be hot Christians want the message, but the world want to be shot So I give ‘em both until they choke but truthfully If one side say you dope, the other think that you a joke Let me clear my throat as I provoke you with these quotes I got a Grammy in the closet, but I trade it for the hope of the people ‘Cause these days evil If you ain’t seen Jesus, you don’t want to see the sequel People holla 116, ‘cause they know we represent Something bigger than the dollars and the cents Still it don’t make sense that I rock with killers in dark tents Drinking liquor ‘til they thinking of speaking in past tense And it’s past tense with pastors and past friends Who don’t understand the mission in some of my actions Get your hands up