I don't wear a disguise
I heard they despise cause I'm informed like da spies
I don't wear a disguise
I heard dat dis guy is up in da skies...............
In da skies like clouds of the stratus
The angels like Jesus could've gladly dispatched us
Died so we dont have to burn like matches
Sits on the thrown until He returns like taxes
He like......I'm here so long sittin on da thrown
Hair so long dat ima need a comb
Left hand, born again, but already grown
On the other hand......is Christ's side of the thrown
Which is the right hand of the Father
The world sittin in the right hand of the Father
Teaching young boys to be da right man for ya daughter
Life purified, bottled up like water
David I turn psalms into jams
Got more lines than the palms of ya hands
I spit it for the Lord; I don't do it for the fans
Cause hell is hot and my words are the fans