Freedom Lyrics - Church Clothes 3 - Lecrae

They out here prostitutin' kiddos 

Fill they pockets with dinero 

Pedophiles, pitiful 

Sell a child to centerfold 

Take they innocence, put in on the internet 

Purities tainted, dignities shaken 

Enslavin' the soul of all of these babies 

And freedom got a price nobody payin' 

Makin' money, American dream ain't it, nah! 

It's a nightmare, don't fight fair for white here 

Benjamin Franklins, killin' we hate for him 

Write a song justifyin' the lies we take for him, hold up 

They ain't with me, I'm willin' to wait for 'em 

Lil' me sat up on the porch, thinkin' dolla bills 

Stomach filled from another meal that my momma killed still 

I can't keep still 

I'd probably steal to keep a couple of Nike checks on the back of my heels 

Grab my back on and pills 

I need a stack on the bills 

They say we slaves to the money 

I guess we back on the field 

I'ma go pursue my happiness, they told me it was free 

But I'm still payin' for it, I'm indebted to this thing 

Heard a prophet say the profit, don't focus on makin' change 

Just focus on tryna be it and maybe you'll make a gain 

Maybe you'll free the slaves, maybe you'll bring a change 

The destinations are different but everyone's on the train 

Related 

27 Best Ever Songs From Movie Soundtracks 

Watch Cardi B Joins James Corden For Carpool Karaoke 

Ariana Grande Adds Her Own Verse To "Last Christmas" 

Freedom isn't free 

But I still, I still believe in my freedom 

So my mind can see 

Please let me be free, please let me 

Freedom 

I'm out here chasin' this freedom 

They out here choppin' my feet off 

And if they catch me I'm Toby, but I ain't 'bout to believe it 

King Kunta, king of coonin', or Kenan & Kel 

Rather rot in a jail cell than be up in hell, well 

Well done, is you cookin' or is you hearin' your Father say, "Well done"? 

Is He lookin' at all your honors? 

Modestly I'll be honest, I'm hangin' onto that promise 

Cause honestly I ain't really been everything that I oughta 

Oughta be on my Harriet, bury next to Honest Abe 

Here's lies another man murdered for tryna free the slaves 

I gave Chief Keef my number in New York this summer 

I told him, "I could get you free", I'm on my Nat Turner 

Back burner, cookin' up a fat burger 

While we shuck and jive to a song about a crack murder 

Know we need a change but we threw it on the stage 

Photos 

Got some money and a soul and neither one of us saved 

Slaves, get free 

Freedom, it isn't free 

But I still believe, I still believe in our freedom 

So my mind can see 

Please let me be free, please let me be free 

Freedom 

Freedom, freedom, freedom