| A yo man let that beat drop on em Yea, oh you know I’m liking that right there
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| Wats good yall
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| It’s yo boy Lecrae
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| Some call me crezy
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| I’m here with my 116 clique representing to you
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| We just want to put it down for the Lord Jesus Christ
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| City to city and state to state, we keep running into more 116 clique members
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| People who are unashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ
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| Let me tell you where we’re from dog?
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| New Jerusalem, that’s my home
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| Let me put it in a song, so you’ll never get it wrong
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| No shame in the message, that’s the reason I live (reason I live)
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| Christ up in every song, He’s the reason I’m here
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| All they rhyme about is guns, money, sex and drugs
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| Eighty percent of these dudes is fictional thugs
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| We don’t kill nobody, we don’t rob no stores
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| We don’t trap, we aint strapped, we don’t smoke that dro
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| We aint pimpin, we aint trippin, if we tippin on some fours
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| den youll probaly hear dat Jesus music comin out our doors (comin out our doors)
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| we aint ashamed, you can call us lame,
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| but everybody gotta die and stand in front of the King
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| We unashamed, unashamed
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| Unashamed, unashamed
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| Unashamed, unashamed
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| Unashamed, unashamed
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| Unashamed, unashamed
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| Unashamed, we unashamed
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| Unashamed, unashamed
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| Unashamed, unashamed
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| We unashamed
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| Watch this so you can really know what time it is God is resurrected and I’m here to glorify Him
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| Ma Jesus, Jesus, ma Jesus might make a great tune
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| But we gotta lead em dipset to the weight room
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| I gotta date soon, but it aint soon enough
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| Father keep pruning us, cause its proven we known for screwing up I cant front cause the pressure is still thick
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| And when sin in looks like the pressure, I’m havin to turn quick
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| A sin sick, so merk it like John Owen
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| You know when Jesus the Christ you can pay him, but still owe him
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| We shoulda died and been buried for our wrong actions
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| Instead Christ died and carried them on his own back (What?)
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| This is a known fact, but some say that its fiction
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| This is our lifestyle, no its not a religion
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| See I survived death back in 2002,
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| And religion is not at all what got your boy through
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| Yea your boy crayola, I don’t do payola
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| No floors full of baking soda, just Jehovah
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| I get played to the left more than I get paid to write
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| So I aint worried about eating dog, tryin to display the fight
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| You see me on the block, the ava void in the land
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| We look the same, but we different
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| We bring God to this thang
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| While being vocal by the Lord and not a piece on chain
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| But don’t get it twisted, its reasons these boys unashamed
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| How bout 'lashes of beatings, they laughing and teasing
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| These blasphemous heathens reject the passion of Jesus
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| He fasted from speaking even with nails bashed in His feat, and the cross,
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| He gasping and wheezing, His lungs collect as He’s breathing
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| The chief priest stone in the court of this chief
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| My Prince of Peace minus the pipe who bought my grief so no more chiefin
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| But like the rims that hit the curb (curb) we call em shoulder blades
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| We got out crosses on our back like our shoulder blade
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| This is death and resurrection that turned about my direction
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| Stepping toward perfection had nothing to do with me (do with me)
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| But the gospel is the power and power been men to pow out
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| We powed in the pavement takin the message to the streets |