Killer Mike - R.A.P. Music lyrics

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 the street
I ain't got no instruments
But I got my hands and feet
Hands gonna clap and feet gonna tap
El-P beats to make that snap
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, they start to sing

This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul
This is gospel this is sanctified sex this
Is player Pentecostal
This is church front pew, amen, pulpit
What my people need and
The opposite of bullshit
This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul
This is gospel this is sanctified sex this
Is player Pentecostal
This is church front pew, amen, pulpit
What my people need and
The opposite of bullshit

It's 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
It's that blues man, that soul man
That OutKast, that Southernplayalisticadillac
It's that Jimi Hendrix, that George Clinton
I feel it in my bones
Aretha Franklin, that Shirley Caesar
Miss Nina Simone
That Sade, that Love is King
That Coltrane, that Love Supreme
That Miles Davis, Bitches Brew
That "beeeyotch" said by Playboy Too

This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul
This is gospel this is sanctified sex this
Is player Pentecostal
This is church front pew, amen, pulpit
What my people need and
The opposite of bullshit
This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul
This is gospel this is sanctified sex this
Is player Pentecostal
This is church front pew, amen, pulpit
What my people need and
The opposite of bullshit

I got things to do
Before I meet that glory in the sky
And my baby girl b day six months away
She gonna be five
So I pray to 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 gonna spit that real
On each and every song
And each and every poem, until the
Good lord call me home, gone!

This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul
This is gospel this is sanctified sex this
Is player Pentecostal
This is church front pew, amen, pulpit
What my people need and
The opposite of bullshit
This is jazz, this is funk, this is soul
This is gospel this is sanctified sex this
Is player Pentecostal
This is church front pew, amen, pulpit
What my people need and
The opposite of bullshit