Temple
Lyrics
Delivered straight from the temple
Hip-hop ya don't stop
One o' clock, two o' clock, three o' clock, rock
Well as an infant I was born into religion
My mother called me Baptist but what she forgot to mention
Was just what baptist meant! The story goes, God sent
His only begotten son who gave his life
To make sure that I would have one
As I learned in Sunday School, is God took care
Of who's ready to disrespect, my mother and father would be Taboo
But as I grew, I met a Jew, a Catholic
And a Protestant just couldn't figure out where Baptist fit
Hastily I pray thee that ya make me see
Why thou has confronted me with such ambiguity
Are you Jehovah? Or Buddha? Or shall I call ya Allah?
All due respect, Heavenly Father
I just like to be a scholar on the subject called theology
So that time I figure
While they call themselves Christians, ya still call me nigga
And off to store a black hole leaves no control over thought
I leave my body to see the pits
Go high when the physical takes control
No communications with the inner self
The prize is the up the wise, wise who has a spiritual health
Now to explain they had the problems/visions of gettin' along with herself
She bought a corner, cornered herself and becomes a mourner
Logic brothers
(Ah, yo sister can Prazwell and Wyclef get some, check it out)
Delivered straight from the temple
Hip-hop ya don't stop
One o' clock, two o' clock, three o' clock, rock
Delivered straight from the (temple), I had no time to (sample)
My cousin's name was (Samuel), I wasn't allowed to use the turntables
My dad was a preacher, so rap music was pure devilism
And if it wasn't sayin', "Thank You Lord!", I couldn't listen
So I used to sneak to listen to DJ Red Alert
To check the competition, or DJ Red Alert goes berserk!
'Cause as a young lad, I had a big rap pad
'Cause he who wanted to practice would someday be the greatest guy
So I checked them as they flippin' sometimes
They're not flippin', they think they rippin'-rappin'
The only rappin' they doin' is in they room before they packin'
You gained the world sucker, but you lost your soul
(The devil approach you us, all you do is tell a foe)
Life after death could be eternal fire
So some get blunted but you're back all on this when it's all over
Mama said a blunt was a stunt to the brain
So son say, "I don't smoke!" but on the sneak-tip he sniff coke!
He won the lotto, now he dies of an overdose
While the bum he picked a hole to sleep he wanted a deep throat
So ask yourself the question: Who's really maxin'?
'Cause some check in but don't check out and either Hell or Heaven high
But to some Earth is Hell and Heaven's death
So they predict to be Haiti's and kill till there's nothin' left, hah
But I'mma hit'em with a gun, that's harder than all guns
Mic check from the temple, check the tech
(And start the nuzzle to get wreck)
Can I get a witness? (Check the tech)
Get wreck (check the tech), check the tech
(And start the nuzzle to get wreck), can I get a witness?
(Check the tech), here we go yo
Well I arrive let me tell you what I see in my third eye
Many die they call a battle, they got crucified
Justice, is righteous, in the eyes of the beholder
While the, younger the better but the, older the wiser
Mama used to read in deep from the book of Proverbs
But the bird said the word was absurd, have ya heard?
Knowledge, I come to teach while I increase ya decrease
Some say peace, but on a street a .45's my piece
Hallelujah, hallelujah, praise be to thee
Jah Almighty, come
On the nineteenth of October I remember
Startin' my life as a natural leaver
'Cause I lick one-two-three-four-five-six-seven shots
While any priest here builds his church on a solid rock, hit me
So feel the spirit comin' from the Heaven above
(Ay, Pras, how could you be a hood in full of so much love?)
I said, on every man chest there breathes a heart
Hip-hop where it starts, I tried to master the art, come on!
Writer(s): Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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