Show Lyrics

TRUTH, Da - Price Tag
(from the album Open Book)
© copyright 2007, Emanuel Lambert, Jr., William Barefield III, Courtney Peebles

We’re trying to show them that for Christ we live/ Help ‘em understand for Christ we die/
Man the cost is high (high)/ You gon’ say ya good byes/ Cause part of you gon’ have to die
Yeah, the cost is high (2x)

The God man is came, I’m trying to help ‘em understand this thing/ How we lift Him up and stand for His
standards man/ He’s running this thing and if you wanna run with the King/ Then it’s gon’ be some giving
up of some things/ For some who ain’t wit the Son it might sound like something insane/ But for us who
living it, we loving this thing/ The Spirit tucked in our frames/ His love flowing through the blood in our
veins/ Finishing the race pays off like we was running for change/ Since we’ve been saved that’s our steelo/
But it ain’t nothing in me bro/ When they see me they call me crazy, like I was Cee-Lo/ He humbled us; put
us under the One like we was zero/ But we don’t flee, we gon’ seek to please Him/ Is we gon leave, No/ No
we live and die for the Father/ Making disciples, recycling Christ-His light is inside us/ Holla, we see the
price that He was willing to pay/ The true cost followed the Father even into the grave/ Yeeaaaa

We’re trying to show them that for Christ we live
Help ‘em understand for Christ we die/Man the cost is high (high)
You gon say ya good byes/ Cause part of you gon’ have to die
Yeah, the cost is high (2x)

Verse 2
Black tie, black suit welcome to my funeral/ 29 years in this life and I gotta few to go/Long as I live I’m a
die, it’s unusual/ Couple ways in which I die and I want you to know/ I love Sean’s line, seen hot baby phat/
Won’t wear Sean John, won’t see that on my lady’s back/ No I ain’t gon’ blind, won’t stare at a ladies
back/ Side when she’s going by, rib like baby back/ Yes sir I’m gon die like 1980’s rap/ Older in the faith
now, outgrown Baby Gap/ But some of what I struggled wit is internal/ the kind of stuff that you only
write in journals/ The kind of stuff that’ll injure you/ That’s why I got certain channels on my television
blocked/ Plus I let some friends go, got up out that fish bowl/ Even though I hurt knee deep inside, man I
know I gotta die


Verse 3
I know some, dudes that are Christians that produce for the wicked/ And I know some musicians that use
their gift in the church/ But the same musicians that use their gift in the church/ Produce and play for the
wicked, but they call it work/ And they try to justify and say that its just a job/ But that’s the customized
line, that they use to compromise/ just adjust the knob on your radio/ Here we go, another song a saint
produced/ Is producing lust and lies/ It’s another side to the coin, I know you know where I’m going/ This is
bigger than trying to stay employed/ And I’m so convinced that’s it’s more/ Cause if these same producers
were writers, they wouldn’t write for Playboy/ O boy, I know I sound kinda stern/ But if they majored in
communications they wouldn’t work for Howard Stern/ I know they’re more concerned about the dollars
earned/ Then they all God’s glory I ain’t talking outta turn/ When you help the same people that’s working
against the Kingdom/ You ain’t taking it back by force, you making matters worse/ And they all try to get
off by saying I ain’t the star/ It’s like saying I ain’t robbed the bank man I just drove the car/ You ain’t
gotta shoot the ball to put points on the board/ All you gotta do is pass to help the other team score/ So
even if you on the board you still guilty as charged/ On that tour, by the way God didn’t open that door/