| Song | Hey Y'all |
| Artist | Cross Movement |
| Album | Higher Definition |
| (Chorus) | |
| Hey y'all, hey y'all, hey y'all hey y'all | |
| What's the deal? What's the haps? Whatcha' say y'all? | |
| Hey y'all, hey y'all, hey y'all, hey y'all | |
| I know the truth, I know the life, I know the way | |
| (Verse One) | |
| I figured somebody thinks it took Kanye to get us | |
| God spitters the kind of shine that proves that God's with us | |
| Nah player, God's rare | |
| It's typical God here | |
| He makes sure His glory is clear in all spheres and sections | |
| He shows up where you least expect him | |
| This Lord's the blesser yep - and He's the blessin' | |
| He likes flexin' cause He's perfection | |
| You see these perfections in each direction | |
| After seein' them things look bleak I'm guessin' | |
| Cause you see 'em and you see you need correction | |
| Then you feel like the writer of Psalm 12 | |
| The godly's no more, it's so raw it seems like people just want hell | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Verse Two) | |
| The hood can be a beautiful thing | |
| But with no Christ in the city it ain't pretty what the future would bring | |
| We need more than Malcom X and Martin Luther the King | |
| We need "Davids" walkin' the pavement with truth in their sling | |
| And no matter what hood we stroll | |
| We're like the kid that everywhere he looked he only saw tootsie rolls | |
| We see a chance to give people a reason for the hope of believers | |
| Cause though they're breathin' these hopeless people are grievin' | |
| In the streets some are numb but others are still bothered | |
| At the unfit mothers and the unskilled fathers | |
| That's why we plug Christ like an unskilled barber | |
| Rap artists who harvestó some plant and some will water | |
| But God'll make it grow and it won't stop | |
| If He's the center like the gum in a blow pop | |
| Remember you're eternal but your dough's not | |
| Your rims, your Timbs, your brims and your clothes rot | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Verse Three) | |
| I like to brag on my Righteous Dad | |
| Who saves from the Einsteins to the psychopaths | |
| To the dudes that conclude all of life's so bad | |
| To the slums, to the ones that moved out to the nice ol' pad | |
| And I spit it as a regular dude | |
| Spit after chewin' Holy Writ and this is my regular food | |
| Plus I get with a crew that gets with Him too | |
| We'll get with you even if you never step in a pew | |
| And it's been like this since I was seven | |
| To the point where they now sense I'm a reverend | |
| But I tell 'em til I'm in heaven | |
| I'm reppin' the God who changes lives like 9/11 | |
| (Chorus) |
| Chorus | |
| Hey y' all, hey y' all, hey y' all hey y' all | |
| What' s the deal? What' s the haps? Whatcha' say y' all? | |
| Hey y' all, hey y' all, hey y' all, hey y' all | |
| I know the truth, I know the life, I know the way | |
| Verse One | |
| I figured somebody thinks it took Kanye to get us | |
| God spitters the kind of shine that proves that God' s with us | |
| Nah player, God' s rare | |
| It' s typical God here | |
| He makes sure His glory is clear in all spheres and sections | |
| He shows up where you least expect him | |
| This Lord' s the blesser yep and He' s the blessin' | |
| He likes flexin' cause He' s perfection | |
| You see these perfections in each direction | |
| After seein' them things look bleak I' m guessin' | |
| Cause you see ' em and you see you need correction | |
| Then you feel like the writer of Psalm 12 | |
| The godly' s no more, it' s so raw it seems like people just want hell | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse Two | |
| The hood can be a beautiful thing | |
| But with no Christ in the city it ain' t pretty what the future would bring | |
| We need more than Malcom X and Martin Luther the King | |
| We need " Davids" walkin' the pavement with truth in their sling | |
| And no matter what hood we stroll | |
| We' re like the kid that everywhere he looked he only saw tootsie rolls | |
| We see a chance to give people a reason for the hope of believers | |
| Cause though they' re breathin' these hopeless people are grievin' | |
| In the streets some are numb but others are still bothered | |
| At the unfit mothers and the unskilled fathers | |
| That' s why we plug Christ like an unskilled barber | |
| Rap artists who harvestó some plant and some will water | |
| But God' ll make it grow and it won' t stop | |
| If He' s the center like the gum in a blow pop | |
| Remember you' re eternal but your dough' s not | |
| Your rims, your Timbs, your brims and your clothes rot | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse Three | |
| I like to brag on my Righteous Dad | |
| Who saves from the Einsteins to the psychopaths | |
| To the dudes that conclude all of life' s so bad | |
| To the slums, to the ones that moved out to the nice ol' pad | |
| And I spit it as a regular dude | |
| Spit after chewin' Holy Writ and this is my regular food | |
| Plus I get with a crew that gets with Him too | |
| We' ll get with you even if you never step in a pew | |
| And it' s been like this since I was seven | |
| To the point where they now sense I' m a reverend | |
| But I tell ' em til I' m in heaven | |
| I' m reppin' the God who changes lives like 9 11 | |
| Chorus |