Dead Preacher
    (专辑: The Art Of Joy - 2014)
    
    Wake up 6 
in the 
morning, sun is steady shining  The 
blinds rising, I'm yawning, ready to get this money  Kevin heartless, Eddie hustle, my struggle nothing funny  Open this book of tricks, magician dipped in Armani  Open this book of scripts, scripture flipping I'm running  Out of time to find scriptures slick to get money  Out the 
pockets of bodies, pick pocketing pews  Prophet is what they call me, my pockets profit off you  I 
retain the 
stock when I 
exchange the 
truth  My aim is not to click, bang, shoot at the 
jewels who's hanging round my neck, blue diamonds on my noose  A 
parable's what I'll preach, tithes rise when they confused  Convicted sometimes a 9 
to 5 I 
can't, I 
John 9 
High 5 
 And rob the 
saints, it's easy  I'm giving out masks today, a 
masquerade  They just doing what they master say, I'm passing lanes  Listening to Wu-Tang in my speaker, sipping my macchiato, gotta get my cream up  Got communion in the 
AM, hope they don't whine like crushed grapes  Blood pressure raising, heard a 
voice say, "Aye, You remind me of Balaam."  I 
heard about him before, two colors what I 
paint with  All I 
see is green like the 
Wiz when his mind changes  I 
take a 
puff of purpIe, I 
preach good when I 
fly with angels   As I 
stand before the 
people underneath the 
steeple  Kinda thinking twice like I'm repeating sequels  Then I 
think about my life, bigger than cathedrals  How it's flyer than a 
kite on the 
back of eagles  I'm good on getting low like I 
float with seagulls  You can't shake me, I 
ain't Haiti with a 
case of seizures  So open up the 
book of God, my motives hidden like it's living in some camouflage  Cameras are all around me, paparazzi feeling  Papa bought to rob the 
children up out they chill en's  My pupils to the 
ceiling, like students sitting on the 
roof, prayers loosed  I 
hope he hear it, never mind  Let's get in this text, a 
100 or so characters in front of me  Tell 'em turn John 3, when the 
singers done like John B 
 My mind seems to be light like high beams  Read right into the 
story of God's son, my Nas stomach feeling funny  I 
can't focus, this problem I 
can't show it  The 
tape rolling, they ready to swim and I'm Frank Ocean  I 
think. Conviction gripping my neck and I 
can't choke  This hope is prying my eyes open, no one sees my soul is solar  The 
Son is coming for me, tell him wait  Entire place is quiet now, my wife's face is a 
quiet frown  My mind state is acquired now, I'm prostrate  My face is down, my mind is changed  I 
whisper vows, he listens now, I'm wowed how  He's everything I've been looking for  In the 
book I 
was flipping like a 
gymnast or a 
centerfold  For some sinner dough, now I 
know he knows this sinner though  So my soul was searching for a 
source to put his symptoms on  Now my soul is richer than it's ever been, heaven-sent medicine  Seen it in the 
middle of my meddling  Sin was in my skin but now his riches in my melanin  Now my soul is richer than it's ever been