Here we go While cops bust glocks and call cars; God calls the Amba-ss-adors 2 Corinthians 5:20; we get up (it's a lot of us out here) It's been a while; I've been chillin'out, in and out of basements You've been patient—waitin' for what's been marinatin' God's a slow cooker I know look how I'm stationed Knee bones are bowed to the throne and now I'm facin' Raised up stakes and a lot of anticipation Allow me to shift the weight to the God who can get with Satan If was a Colt you'd allow me to look to Payton Well I'm William; now will you allow Will to look to grace and Trust Christ to be the reason I feed them a true dish Sk**s are only equal to probably barley and 2 fish But Christ is known to whittle your stash Till it's little and then he multiplies the little you have Whether you laugh or not I'm a trust in His word I dare trust the God who cares more for us than the birds After I drop some'll ask, "What just occurred?" Amba**ador was more than rappin' he was rushin' to serve Amba-ss-ador Hip hop is more than a music—more than a fad Like the church is more the pews and more than pastor It's what the streets asked for when they fell through the cracks They felt trapped—hip hop gave them a back door We were sheep—the streets were like pasture We could feast on a beat—we liked rap more At the core it's about art like a crafts store The glory of God is what all of our crafts for But like any culture without Christ—gla** jaw Easily robbed of its wealth—like cash draws Now hip hop's in a peculiar position Sides get divided by it like a tool of division It can teach but not free you like a school up in prison It can feed but it's usually junk food in the kitchen And it's now in a ruler's position Could go far; but the way things are the fuel's not efficient Amba-ss-ador I seem to love the culture but I hate most of its ways I'm supposed to if I say I hope souls can be saved It can make you gravitate to the foul spots And make it look great to break all of God's "shall nots" All of your pals flock to the place where the shells drop They sell rock and make it look like you're on hell's block Gals shop just make mouths drop Hard not to watch when you see what these gals rock And kids are so star struck, forget Harvard They wanna be on a show that hooks their car up And you can hang God up You'll blow the whole mood, they're gonna go "boo" When His name is brought up But this is the mission Amba**ador's on This Christian is hip and he's rippin though its hazardous for him I'm rappin' as long as I can till the chasm is gone I know a God who'll put a Lazarus on them Amba-ss-ador