| We on the grind and we ain’t goin' stop
|
| Truth said, «We on Duty» like them plain clothes cops
|
| Reignited in us fire, much flame, so hot
|
| We was lame, dumb, slaves, we was plain robots
|
| Ever since we been cleaned, not a stain, no spot
|
| No blame, much gain, He remains on top
|
| We surrendered our plans, our games, our plots
|
| When His Spirit came down like some rain on crops
|
| So times we get drained and your man straight flops
|
| Our mission is hard to swallow like ya man drank scotch
|
| Its strange I’m feeling strained like my veins goin' pop
|
| But my brother said «your work is not in vain don’t stop»
|
| So I fall to my knees and I start praying
|
| I labor over the scriptures just to see what God is saying
|
| I’m reminded of the mission that he is giving can’t stray off
|
| Gotta work for Him no time to take a day off
|
| Gotta work (All Day)
|
| Gotta labor (All Day)
|
| We gotta get out in the field for the Savior (All Day)
|
| So get busy (okay)
|
| Gotta grind (okay)
|
| No slacking we ain’t got no time (Yes Sir)
|
| You look around you can see why we grieve
|
| Everywhere that we look everyone is deceived
|
| Every block, every corner, man I really see needs
|
| And I’m looking at the church and I don’t really see deeds |