Hook: To live is Christ and to die is gain/ either way He’s glorified in His saint’s/ when our lives are changed, and the ‘I’ is crucified in His name/ and we identify in His pain (we’re gonna rise to reign)//x2
Steve: Divine Architect perfectin' a sky scraper/ never paralleled by Babylonian tower makin' Adonai haters/ this worlds fly but El Shaddai's greater/ so I smile now, knowin' there's no time in heaven to cry later// while the world's towers are crumblin'/ the same Rock keepin' me firm got the disobedient stumblin'/ the Stone rejected by the builders/ now seen as the head of the corner conquerin' gangs and drug dealers// now His crew rolls thick/ international recruiters with passports and pack of few who flow sick/ spittin' truth to cats who throw brick/ ready for martyrdom, separatin' lamps from little glow sticks// this joint here is for the believers over seas/ smugglin' bibles and preachin' Jesus where ever God pleases/ regardless of the received opposition, you remain harmless/ soldiers for Christ endurin' hardness// From the underground Christian emcees/ to cats leadin' underground bible studies in foreign countries/ From cats passin' tracts and plantin' seeds to Pastors plantin' churches, with a passion for legacy// from the boy prayin' for his families salvation/ to the man beggin' wit’ tears for God to save his nation/ your treasures in heaven are waitin'/ your work is not in vain, and benefits come with this occupation// 'cause...
Hook
Steve: Yo, the mission is still "Build Up!" Redeemed Thought, blood bought/ members of the Body of Christ the Holy Spirit sealed up/ teachin' to edify the brethren/ and preachin' to add livin' stones to the Master Builders collection// Thrilled to be His Co-workers/ We Orchestrate Rhymes Servin' His Illuminatin' Purpose, we call it W.O.R.S.H.I.P./ service goes beyond the churches, enter the trenches/ too many Christians are ridin' the benches// pew punks, on some whack Christmas and Easter junk/ swearin' they know God, but that's bunk/ they know they be gettin' it crunk, leavin' the club half drunk/ their garments drenched in the stench of skunk// sinners with suits on Sundays mockin'/ the cats rockin' the timbs and fitted caps diggin' the doctrine/ not knowin' that cat was earnin’ a masters/ in seminary ready to plant a church and pastor/ this tracks for the objects of man's laughter/ the Jesus freaks, hittin' the streets, who look past the/ persecution in the pursuit of God, chasin’ after/ His prosperity, not presently, but after/ tribulation so endure with patience/ Jesus Christ has conquered the world and He keeps a leash on Satan/ your treasures in heaven are waitin'/ your work is not in vain and benefits come with this occupation// 'cause...
