Step right up, your soul’s for sale — I preach the truth with a backstage pass and holy ale. We got smoke machines and sinner screens, This ain’t your grandma’s Nazarene. I roll the cross with hidden wheels, Through cathedrals built of sponsorship deals. Big screens flash my perfect grin, While ushers pass the plates again. CGI turns water red, We fake the sick, then raise the dead. My miracles are post-produced, With smoke and lights and auto-tuned truth. Yeah, I sold out — praise be me, Streaming sermons in 5.3D. Baptized in cash, and dipped in fame, Your salvation’s branded with my name. I wear a suit that costs more than grace, I bless the crowd, then bless the bass. I quote the Book, then twist the verse, To fill the pews — and pad my purse. Crosses roll with style and ease, Smoke machines part Red Sea seas. I part the crowd like I’m divine, With laser halos on my spine. Yeah, I sold out — praise be me, Streaming sermons in 5.3D. Baptized in cash, and dipped in fame, Your salvation’s branded with my name. Don’t need loaves, I’ve got gold fries, Sold the truth in supersized lies. Crowd control, divine deceit, Holy stage beneath my feet. I sold out, and they all cheer, Saints with foam fingers, front row fear. Faith’s a business, I’m the CEO — And Christ is just my sold-out show. So book your seat, don’t miss the ride, My gospel glows in cyanide. And when I cry, it’s in 4K — A holy lie that makes you pay.
