Propaganda - I Hate It lyrics

Hey, healthy, wealthy Hate it, name it, and claim it Like sickness is a sign that you out of the will of God I hate it like liars and preachers who reduce the King of Kings to a slot machine rabbit's feet The audacity, ya'll know what I mean Like thinking that Obama has completed King's dreams I hate it I'm sorry like we earned it, it's over When the po-po pull me over, I shouldn't be nervous? Please St. Angeles ain't get the memo Playa, these billy clubs have evolved to tasers I voted in every election, still don't trust my government Sorry that's what happens when you're raised by a Panther I believe welfare is a band-aid on cancer The problem's still sin and only Christ is the answer Married out my race because love don't see color Neither does hip-hop, Odd Thomas is my brother Watch me smother a beat and brothers attack me And question my theology, I see no wrong in battling Answer to the culture, roast the emcee sick And listen up quick to every word you spit I hate it like Fox News, CNN, TBN A wack rapper charging mediocrity to ministry Loose cannon bragging 'bout stuff he ain't accomplished Time is slightly off and the devil is his accomplice Whole more is nervous and mad cause I ain't And shaking in they jeans like phones on vibrate The future of product pushing: penance penicillin Best influence the nation could ever wish when Clock strikes seven, the perfect lesson is back And hanging on my words like knowledge is crack I'm still a foot soldier, with or without a mic And they find me among the hostile, unashamed of the Gospel Hate it, impatience and bad theology A bill collector's calling me like I don't know I owe 'em I hate that I owe 'em, hate it more that it's my fault Hate when my sister cries listening to Satan lies I hate what God hates, hate the saints' angst stick Her kids keep facing such emotional drain Caused quite a few confusions not saying what I meant Admittedly administered multiple mismanagements Painting pictures of how my faith looks So I got my face in this Book man instead of this Facebook Tax payer, mic slayer, ya'll just talk a lot I'm realer than fat caps, my chisel-tip marks a lot Ya'll can draw the line, find me in the parking lot Cyphering with little tikes, offering the keys of life Sing!