Show Lyrics

Ambassador - Hands In The Air
(from the album Christology)
© copyright 1999

From the Philly pad I've been servin' Christ and now it's really/
Nonbelievers are treating Jesus like a silly fad/
Weak like the spot Achilles had they got me really mad/
Talking 'bout relationships they never really had/
The kill me dog but it's not about the skills we have/
Because the city is sickly the need the Balm on Gilead/
Known for doin' things that's odd to see like the Iliad/
Like standing on top of the water like a lily pad/
The Life Giver who turns my heart like a river/
From when it was trashy and/
When it was nasty like lives/
He fills His quiver with children with who follow His orders/
Sons and daughters who've been changed like dollars to quarters/
Holler. He'll pour you grace and then give you some more/
Give you wisdom when you're in a trial like a court case/
Can't show you the pure face but you can get the pure taste goodness/
Never running out like you're raw space/
All sing to the only acceptable offering/
All things reconciled by His/
death on the cross beam/
With blood that was clean, and blood that "ca-ching!"/
He purchased men - so/
that must mean worship the King/
God the Son/
the only One with a plan to redeem/
Stronger that the Army-Navy, Air force, and the Marines/
Elohim the A to Z and all that's in between/
The Supreme who could have let us fall yet intervened/
Called the elect made sure we accept/
Roots us in Christ so we can grow like a chia pet/
So hail the King, priest and prophet/
The inexhaustible topic The Person/
of God you can peep with your optic.

In the eyes of this world my life is trife/
They don't understand when I say I've died to Christ/
Died to my rights/
Livin' selfless, render myself helpless/
Trustin' God, set my heart where his eternal wealth is/
What else is there to live for, what else is there to hope in still/
I bow to Christ with a broken with a broken will/
Becoming broken bread and poured out wine/
When seen with the natural eye authentic Christian livin' blows the mind/
What validates my faith go check/
You'll see from the holy scroll to the codex that God inspires the whole text/
The scriptural facts will surprise and paralyze you like broke necks shake up your whole Set, leave your soul vexed/
I pray you dream of his holiness and wake up in cold sweats/
Can't dissolve the mixture no matter how odd the picture you can't deny the God of Scripture equipped with tha/
Truths that transform becoming a thorn where man swarm/
We bring the real when we kingdom build upon the rock/
He's the one you can either stand on or be the one whom he lands on, weather the sinkin Sand storms/
Until you realize there's no other God worth taking a chance on/
We keep our hands on the plow breaking up the fallow ground/
While Christ can found seek him and follow now.

The Phanatik:
It's been told that men without Christ would face insurmountable odds/
And the greatest of these would be a close encounter with God (and you don't want that)/ Even though your free to give it a try, 100% before the Most High/
Either live it or die/
Cause ever since Adam sinned life was done, but thanks to Christ the Son/
When Death marked us up with it's pricin' gun/
Jesus came and smiled and paid for us all and brought the work of sin to an/
End like the child labor law/
When the wild and wayward saw that in Jesus God forgave us all who repented/
And consented that our way was wrong, then they saw why the truth rocks us/
So hard enough to work arduous to bogard yo just pardon us. Like the/
Marginous distance between mars and us, understand men are from dust and/
Smart enough or large enough to harness up and jump the marvelous distance/
Between us and God we just tarnish up His image. My mission is to open eyes/
And I'm steady mobilizin' because of the hope I find in Jesus, tougher than/
Teflon, hung with the common thugs though He had more class than Upper/
Eshelon. I'm in love with the way He put us back together, life was broke/
Then Christ came in handy like Black and Decker, the fact is pleasure could/
Never measure up black, to Christ so tell us where's your treasure at/
This song was not on the tapes you gave us, so I assume that you have it/
And can get the lyrics.