R.A.P. Music

I've never really had a religious experience

In a religious place

Closest I've ever come to seeing or feeling God is

Listening to rap music

Rap music is my religion, amen

What I say might save a life

What I speak might save street

I ain't got no instruments but I got my hands and feet

Hands gon' clap and feet gon' tap

El-P beats to make the slap

And I ride 'em with my raps

And they all tight as my naps

And my naps is all I got

And this beautiful ebony skin

And the music in my heart and the words put in the wind

And the words put in the wind comin' back like a boomerang

When I take this microphone

Point it at the crowd and start to sing

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit

This that Robert Johnson, that Muddy Waters, that James Brown

Augusta, Georgia, that Ray Charles, that Stevie Wonder

That Mayfield, that Superfly, that Willie Hutch and that Mack

This that blues, man, that soul, man

That Outkast, that Southernplayalisticadillac

This that Jimi Hendrix, that George Clinton, I feel it in my bones

Aretha Franklin, that Shirley Caesar, Miss Nina Simone

That Sadé, that Love is King, that Coltrane

That Love Supreme, that Miles Davis, Bitches Brew

That "Beeyotch" said by Playboy Too

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit

I got things to do 'fore I meet glory in the sky

And my baby girl b-day six months away, she gon' be five

So I pray the Lord He spare me and I make it by and by

And I help souls stay out of Hell with what I testify

And maybe when I grab that microphone and never lie

That'll merit that He spare me, I won't have to feel that fire

So, Killa Kill gon' spit that real on each and every song

And each and every poem till the Good Lord call me home, gone

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit

This is jazz, this is funk

This is soul, this is Gospel

This is sanctified sick, this is player Pentecostal

This is church, front pew, amen, pulpit

What my people needin'? The opposite of bullshit