Alright, a little bit of satire for ya, nawmean...

[Verse 1]

Gold rush for that junk we can't touch

Got us reaching for the sky

Praying for a damn sign

You don't get it, then you damn the Divine

Like God owes you dimes

Everytime that your chime ring

I mean

Who gave you rights to damn a single thing?

But emphatically demanding an answer like you a king

Who gave you breath to man a single being?

A chance to command your little brain to think?

Nawmean

You ain't the start or the afterlife

Better shrink playing shrink in His presence

The real Jesus, ain't paying John Lennon penance

He ain't Republican or bowing to the skeptics

He don't owe us anything but a record

But all you gonna say is "God damn" if you reckless

But little man got no power in his presence

But hot damn, you the man, so damn his perspective

[Verse 2]

Dopamine be the dope in your lil dreams

What feel's good is what determines

What you really think

That's why you tried to trash bag hell's meaning

Like Hell naw, recall

God wouldn't mean it

That's too medieval to believe in

Plus I don't approve of that procedure

But since when did God have to ask for our allegiance

Or persuade us to make us

Relay trust in what's conveyed in Revelation

It's hard to stomach, I agree with

But let me 95 my theses,

Screw excuses, we all glory thieving

Jew or the Heathen

Traded the Triune for damn false teaching

I don't like the thought either

But my feelings don't change what is

And your's neither

But how you gonna wish it out of being?

And tell the Author of Life how to re-write the meaning

There's mercy for the seeker

But you was like "God damn, Peace

I don't need grace either"