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Amen! Ooh, so then we been
Here to praise the underground the way it should've been
But not to rock gospel, or to sound hostile
I'm glad I seen the light before I wound up as a fossil
Now this ain't church because my sermon sounded different
And if you feel the music I can tell you feel the spirit
So swing the tambourine as I take you to a scene
Of the underground, know what I mean?
Now this is my anthem, sort of like my national
And people still sing it from the streets to the classroom
I don't believe it, but glory hallelujah
And it's 'cause I gotta get funky like tuna
I'm not a Muslim or Christian or Baptist
But yo I give thanks if you listen to me rap this
Now who's the reverend? That's the next question
My moms, my grams, and uh, my mother's husband
Now Funky Man's my deacon 'cause he backs me when I'm speaking
And Jazz is the pastor 'cause he mixed the crazy beats, and uh
My congregation backs me like a choir
(Gracious Lord) And then we were hired to
Freak the underground and bring back the hip-hop on a
Peaceful journey like, hey baby, won't stop
So where you worship? A chapel in a small town?
No matter what I praise God in the underground
LowTalk is here, bow your heads for the prayer
LowTalk is here, bow your heads for the prayer
Kumbaya, my Lord (What?) My Lord (What?) My Lord (What?)
While I do my thing choir sing
Kumbaya, my Lord
Kumbaya
Now chill, watch me rock this
Now in my underground there's no tradism or baptism
Punk MCs I dismiss 'em with my rhythmic exorcism
Lord Jazz, hit me one time for the deacon
I wanna give a sermon but my beeper keeps on beepin'
So do it all, step up to the podium and preach, G
While I get to my phone so I can see who's tryin' to reach me
Thou shall not front like he's hard when he's not (Well)
Thou shall not front like he's fresh when he's not (Well)
Thou shall not front like he's down when he's not (Well)
Thou shall not front, underground when he's bop
I write my lyrics on a scroll in the ark made by Noah
I like my head with crowns when forty minus over
Yey, though I walk through this valley of brightness
I shall fear no other brother 'cause these brothers need practice
And I shall set a table in the presence of my brothers
LowTalk, whether or wrong or right, I put no one above us
Between us there's a bond that no one could ever sever
And I shall dwell in the underground forever
To interrupt my sermon is really kind of bold
So may the good Lord have mercy on your soul
LowTalk is here, bow your heads for the prayer
LowTalk is here, bow your heads for the prayer
LowTalk is here, bow your heads for the prayer
LowTalk is here, bow your heads for the prayer
Little Jimmy Swaggart was sitting in a tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Jimmy Baker was rich but Jimmy Baker went crazy
(Nineteen million twenty-five thousand, yo, get away from me!)
Now you understand, now you understand
Why people go to church in the underground land (Why?)
Because your modern-day religion is busted
The preacher is a thief and nuns just can't be trusted
They walk around the church, collecting all your dough
Where will the buck stop? Nobody knows
It's not right to gamble, oh ain't that a pity
What's up with all them bus rides, you know, Atlantic City?
The Trump Tower, the hall, or maybe the castle
Reverend Wade just hit the jackpot (Oh, we're not special)
But wait, but wait, you just hit the jackpot
What are you gonna do next?
Well, I'm going to the promised land
In my brand new Cadill-ac
So don't get mad if we don't pray like you be praying
You might think we're against church but that's not what I'm saying
And if you think we're buggin', you
Just might need to take a second look
You never know, your preacher just might be a crook
So if you wanna pray but you don't wanna get caught out there
Everybody stand up, clap your hands for the Lord's prayer
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