[Verse 1: Propaganda] They say the places we venture a Christian shouldn't dare Homie, that ain't holiness, it's fear, you scared Homie, I swear, I won't sin by osmosis Nope, I got a blood bought prognosis From the age when shoulder blades held ghetto blaster No such thing as Christian rap, but rappers who believe Stand your ground, pound the mic consistent with the truth you speak You could watch the gospel stand on its own two feet Really ain't that unique, y'all just never seen it Unlike the elephants we won't let you ignore Like arenas full of white kids all singing along Make convos in the green room filled with awkward pauses Don't think I don't know em, when they don't trust and it's all love We just came to provide y'all the soundtrack of life Like around here a life's like sounds from the mic, right Every creed and color with their 116 tats More humble rapper-tees all with their hands up Understand before Grammys and stellas it was bars from the cellar That soar higher than cellular Less net worth, can't tell you my net worth I ain't got a clue, low dough was never fuel to choose the type of tool we using Just who and when, we could better prepare you to make amends with the Savior Destroy your turntables, say [Hook: Propaganda & Lecrae] And you ain't got to understand, just hands up And if you from the West that's W's up, it's all love You and I know we both can't afford to ignore, hands up East to the west, y'all, hands up L.A. to the Bay, y'all, hands up Hands up, everybody everybody, just hands up Hands up [Interlude] (Shout out to my man, Propaganda, from the mighty mighty Humble Beast My name is Lecrae, I represent Reach, 116, unashamed believers) [Verse 2: 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 k**ers 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 [Hook]