The Gospel (Live from Movistar Arena Bogota, Colombia)

[Intro]
I feel like history on the turntable
Old school to new school, like nothin' ever been realer
On the history of the turntables
I'm the mystery of what's inside the speaker cables
I'm Nina Simone in the park
Harlem in the dark
I'm the musical to the project fables
I'm the words scratched out on the record label
I'm the wind when the record spins
I'm the dramatic static before the song begins
I'm the еrratic energy that gets in your skin
And if you don't lеt me in
I'm the shot in the air when the party ends

Bogotá, let me hear you say "yeah"
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I had to bring the party to you
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Sing
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Sing
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Let's go
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 1]
I said we're all God's children, products of the ghetto
Mama cooked the soup, daddy did the yelling
Uncle was a drunk, cousin was a felon
And when he got pinched, he told them he wasn't tellin'
Auntie was a cook, her husband was a crook
'Cause every job he had they be payin' him off the books
Ghetto University, knowledge is all it took
In the tenement I was listenin' to the hook (Mmm)
Change gon' come, spirit of Sam Cooke
And when the Feds coming, everybody be shook
Now we doing life like Eddie Murphy and Martin
On the chain gang, I was singing into the coffin
Roaches and the rats, heroin and the cracks
Couldn't blame me, I'm just giving the facts
I'm tryna hit the top 'cause the bottom ain't where it's at
Everybody got a path but you can never go back, oh

[Outro]
Oh, let me hear you say "yeah"
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)