Alright, a little bit of satire for ya, nawmean...
[Verse 1]
Gold rush for that junk we can't touch
Got us reaching for the sky
Praying for a damn sign
You don't get it, then you damn the Divine
Like God owes you dimes
Everytime that your chime ring
I mean
Who gave you rights to damn a single thing?
But emphatically demanding an answer like you a king
Who gave you breath to man a single being?
A chance to command your little brain to think?
Nawmean
You ain't the start or the afterlife
Better shrink playing shrink in His presence
The real Jesus, ain't paying John Lennon penance
He ain't Republican or bowing to the skeptics
He don't owe us anything but a record
But all you gonna say is "God damn" if you reckless
But little man got no power in his presence
But hot damn, you the man, so damn his perspective
[Verse 2]
Dopamine be the dope in your lil dreams
What feel's good is what determines
What you really think
That's why you tried to trash bag hell's meaning
Like Hell naw, recall
God wouldn't mean it
That's too medieval to believe in
Plus I don't approve of that procedure
But since when did God have to ask for our allegiance
Or persuade us to make us
Relay trust in what's conveyed in Revelation
It's hard to stomach, I agree with
But let me 95 my theses,
Screw excuses, we all glory thieving
Jew or the Heathen
Traded the Triune for damn false teaching
I don't like the thought either
But my feelings don't change what is
And your's neither
But how you gonna wish it out of being?
And tell the Author of Life how to re-write the meaning
There's mercy for the seeker
But you was like "God damn, Peace
I don't need grace either"