Preacher Hustle

Pacing up and down won’t get you somewhere,

All of God’s children take their problems to the same place,

But you want to be a fool,

Why do you want to be the stray?

Why are you acting like you don’t know the Savior?

Don’t you recognize the fire within me?

You better act like you know the “Lord’s Chosen”

Plant a seed and I’ll plead with the Lord for your righteousness.

These are the times of the end,

You should be scared,

For the world today has gone rotten,

Would you like to be destroyed by it?

Or would you prefer watching how others get destroyed with it?

On judgment day from your big screen,

In your mansion rent free,

Located in the leafy suburbs on golden streets,

How about you pay a small fee,

I’ll confirm if your name is on St. Paul’s list.

Whatsoever you do to the least of your brothers,

That you do unto me,

Each and every one around you is a brother,

Even your preacher man,

A good job,

A good spouse,

You’re in good health,

I say some good things about you when I pray,

Surely the Lord would be pleased,

If you tipped your “holy” brother,

When the offertory basket comes round next Sunday.