Show Lyrics

Cross Movement - Word Up
(from the album House of Representatives)
© copyright 1998

Verse 1:
I represent Jesus the Preacher, Teacher, Carpenter/
The Name, the Main Feature, the Sword Sharpener/
Who’s marking ya choice as I voice the alternative/
That can alter you from death so y’all can all turn and live/
In eternity with the Eternal Thorough Three/
Shouts out to the Son the One who’s currency/
Brought me out of death/
He caught me out of breath/
He blew His air in my chest and brought me to His rest/
So I confess Jesus like killers confess killing/
Drug dealers to dealing-stealers to stealing/
It’s obvious my hobby is the Blood Spilla who’s spilling/
Red Liquid so ya’ll heads can get with the Infinite/
Intellect who kicks more info than the internet/
In the next verse I might get more intricate/
About Christ who’s eminent/
He gets more props than the Winter gets/
Low temperature and Tim Boots/
Plus He’s been through the heavy pain and agony of death that sin shoots/
Since you was born sin’s roots was in you/
You was born torn and sin still continues to convince you/
That you don’t need the Prince who can rinse you/
Clean in His Royal Blood/
Plus His loyal love will protect you and direct you from the spoil dud/
Doctrines that be dropping deadly venom/
So repent! Put Christ on like some pelle denims.

Word up (Word up)/
Word is bond (Word is bond)/
Word life (Word life)/
Word is Jesus Christ.

Verse 2:
Like the Ambassador I’m asking ya what’s the formula/
Are you cold like Alaska? Or hot like Florida?/
See I’m touring the East Coast with King Cristo/
Mi amigo who created energy for Peco/
He made the sun, that shines from here to Puerto Rico/
He even made the hands that wrote this rhyme for the people/
Who profile like an old owl/
When they show how foolish they really are by rejecting what they know now/
Or know not! ‘Cause if they did, they will go hop/
On the bandwagon of the Lord who’s man handling/
Every bragging emcee who’s gambling playing roulette/
Rambling about how phat their crew gets/
But that’s okay crews like you set the stage/
In this new age of hip-hop that’s on the tip tip/
But will flip flop soon after Christ comes back and lick shots/
At all you disc jocks that be spinning sin on the wheel/
And all you emcees that blaspheme by keeping it real/
Talking about “you gods.” Now that’s ridiculous/
You’re just a human like Saint Nicholas/
I’m sick of this self-defying fruit that fools bit/
Which is really self deception that will have you loose sight/
Of the Lord that can turn your screws tight/
With the Infinite Father who hollers on the mic “Choose Christ!”/