Written by Brady Goodwin
Produced by Tru-Life

Chorus: Without Christ, men ain't spiritual they get caught up in a bunch of spare rituals

Verse 1: I got a feelin most of this spiritual mess is just spare rituals dressed in traditional garb Hip-hop tells a man that he's god a contradiction of terms but noone thinks it's odd and noone hopes that God comes to reclaim His planet when back in the day that type of hope was demanded or should I say da' mandate? Now man hates to hear words about man's fate and breaks into tears and swears it's no fact that man was manufactured If you're down with this world's thinkin' man you're backwards We are not your ordinary slum dwellas check the young fellas gettin open like an umbrella in the rain I still maintain I tell the truth: that me without Christ is like the house without the roof and you need proof? well check the average house with no doors, or no floors no windows, just empty corridors that's what we call abandoned and that's the state that every man's in unless you've asked Christ to come and stand in the gap I slap on the jeans and walk the urban scene and see mad teens in love and down with the world's theme song, but check the new song we sing: it's Jesus the Christ, y all long live the King!

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Verse 2: See, ever since I learned that it was more than cliches I sought to grab the microphone and put Christ on display, so all can see that all the way from here to Albany there ought to be love for the God who makes the autumn leaves awesomely fall in the Fall time often we draw lines and alter the plans with our flawed minds all up and down the F.M. dial they make songs about takin' the wrong route and yet men smile Yet when trials and tribulations appear "God this" and "God that" is all that you hear You don't see them runnin' to them BMWs when trials of regular human beings trouble you There's only one God I know of who does more than create to devastate but demonstrates to show love (it's so bugged) yet not wack doctrine Lyrically I throw gloves to tag ya head like we was slap boxin' (ain't that shockin') but did you know? Yoshua offers us relationships and not just rituals Oh if you know what you gonna bring (than bring it) you know what our thing is it's long live the King, kid.

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Verse 3: See, mankind is opposite God meaning He's anti it's called sin a.k.a. the reason why man dies hold your hands high if you want Christ to sub for you the only one life who qualifies to substitute who suited up and jumped in the game? (who) Who moved it up and bumped in His name where an "X" marked the spot while planet Earth conversed in the parkin' lot talkin' bout whose god is gonna win? (who) And at the end of the night when the game is done, I'm sure it'll be the famous Son (who) who's name is none other than Jesus the one I'll run and hug and thank for puttin' righteous blood in my bank account when my tank amount was empty then He filled me up, like a tank and a half now from the Bible I answer men like Hank Hanegraaff and at man I laugh cause now I understand the scorecard and peep the whole scene like a crazy keen store guard it's sure hard to prove to men that the Lord is more than a name tossed around in my chorus of course it's not some forces in space it's my Lord who's sportin' this world like a bracelet, taste it, that's what we call flava those other gods don't cut it, plus they can't fade, like a dull razor Y all raize ya hands if you no longer stand for the wrong thing and sing with us: "Long live the King!"