Salute, salute

Salute, salute

The church is our Commissary

Salute, salute

I hate to be sedentary

Salute, salute

The church is our Commissary

We standing on kingdom bi’ness, I hate to be sedentary

And back on that defensive, my feelings play secondary

It’s God, family, music, all these bars tertiary

Ya boy a vessel fa the truth, but ain’t nobody dare me

We can’t misconstrue no scripture, have my folk up out here scary

Drank all the milk as kids, had to get up off that dairy

We part ‘a God’s army

The church is our commissary

Salute

It’s where we sit down to have a meal and grocery shop and search for deals

Ditch the band aids, finally heal our wounds and pray that they don’t peel

Feedin’ the homeless give you a different perspective on a quarter mil

So when I break bread wit those that’s lost, I’m pourin’ them each a quart a meal

Of living water

God’ll forgive mo’ debt than if I paid a bill

Whether they homeless in the streets or roamin’ for a church home still

This lil light of mine lookin’ out both ways, whenever we cross that road

Gotta give sight to the blind when you foresee wit no glasses they’ll implode

Woah

I don’t combat if it don’t hit home first run, we’ll make it to the base

(no facts)

Our pitch ain’t intended to strike them out, we tryna get ‘em back to home plate

(no facts)

To give Christ his flowers ain’t gotta be all pretty pretty like you had ‘em in a vase

(NO FACTS!)

Just confess that Romans 10:9 witcha chest, then rest in the peace of ya fate

(On God)

To put out ya fiy, they’ll pry and try

To evaporate ya well till it’s dry and cry

Is all you can do, till God reply

Wit a church right for you, wit a bomb fish fry

And a word from the Lord that will clearly imply

Man can’t live alone on bread, here’s why

Live 3 weeks wit no food, no lie

But only 3 days witout water, you’ll die

The church is our Commissary

We standing on kingdom bi’ness, I hate to be sedentary

And back on that defensive, my feelings play secondary

It’s God, family, music, all these bars tertiary

Ya boy a vessel fa the truth, but ain’t nobody dare me

We can’t misconstrue no scripture, have my folk up out here scary

Drank all the milk as kids, had to get up off that dairy

We part ‘a God’s army

The church is our commissary

Salute

Captain, colonel, sergeant, lieutenant, private, publicly recruit

Marchin’ in shirts and ties ain’t standing’ on bidness without that pur suit

Puttin’ yo position or yo rankin’ over seeds won’t win no souls

B, I pray you crazy in love wit Jesus mo’ than Mrs. Knowles

Hol on, wait

Huh

Say wassup Soulja, how I’m in shape, then my heart obese

Sons and daughters, not a neph or a niece

At the crib, I’m a hub, and a pops, and a priest

Walk in the shoes of the least til’ they creased

Be the hands and the feet, even when it’s not preached

His army is the body, not a clique or a niche

Anybody can enlist, sick, poor, mid, elite

Bag