Yeah, I talk like I learned my lesson,
Still flirt with the sin, no question.
Preachin’ peace while I spark my stressin’,
Sunday words, Friday intentions.
Cross on my neck just decoration,
Prayers sound more like hesitation.
Every quote I post, self-reflection,
But I still ghost grace like a bad connection.

I tell the truth, just the parts that shine,
Sell the story, skip the spine.

Welcome to the Fool’s Gospel,
Where the choir clap off-beat and hostile.
Where the preacher drink from the bottle,
And the truth sound good if you throttle.
Yeah, Fool’s Gospel, say it loud,
Fake hallelujahs still move the crowd.

Yeah, I been blessed and cursed on cue,
Make bad look holy when I need to.
Got a verse for the pain, a verse for the fame,
A hook for the hurt that don’t got a name.
Every prayer I write sound rehearsed,
Still spit it raw ‘cause I know it works.
Call me sinner, call me saved,
Either way, I’m self-made.

Uh, don’t mistake the rhythm for religion,
I’m just human with a decent composition.
Half halo, half contradiction,
Sellin’ truth in limited edition.
Every scar I got, I earned in style,
Every sin I wrote, I meant for a while.
If the good book miss my flaws and files,
Then I’ll rewrite gospel in my own profile.

Welcome to the Fool’s Gospel,
Where the choir clap off-beat and hostile.
Where the preacher drink from the bottle,
And the truth sound good if you throttle.
Yeah, Fool’s Gospel, say it loud,
Fake hallelujahs still move the crowd.

“Ain’t no prophets here…
just poets with decent timing.”