[Hook]
Does, does, does my mic sound nice (x2)
Check 1, Check 2
Check 1, Check 2, Check 3
[Verse 1]
The Hand of The Master of Ceremonies grabs a hold of me
His Spirit grabs a hold of my soul
He's in control
I feel His breath in my chest, giving life and k**ing
The mesh is my flesh which has been torn like a curtain
He speaks through the speakers to lost souls who are hurtin'
I'm cordless but still connected and that's for certain
He graces life's stage though to some He's invisible
Like I said before sometimes He gets lyrical
Rhymes with signs and miracles of Him it is typical
How we need for Him to speak, situation is critical
Sometimes I'm not correct and need some mic checks
Check 1, 2 He keeps my soul in tune
The greatest feeling is when I feel the vibrations
Of His voice echoing revealing revelations (whoa!)
Hold me tight and let me feel You flow
It's when I feel most alive
And my soul brightly glows
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
At times I lie quiet, waiting for Your call
To You I yield my all, You are my all in all
My choice is that, I will echo only Your voice
And see that it's not me but the people that give You feedback
When You speak, it's fluent, eloquent and excellent
Bringing faith which is the evidence of Your presence
Sometimes Your words fall on ears that are deaf
Which lead feet on false paths heading straight for d**h
I can't wait, I eagerly anticipate
When Your hand reaches for me and my spirit levitates
And then I fulfill the purpose for which I was made
To express Your glory and cover the earth with it like waves
So that under the influence of Your magnificence
All those on Your wavelength will respond in resonance
I feel Your hand again, my soul feels such joy
Your voice like many waters, oh what a joyful awesome noise
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
I see my peers being used and abused
They sound distorted giving out messages confused
They are held with a different hand, gripped with a different spirit
Spitting out d**h defying but d**h giving lyrics
Negative in content with misguided intent
Claim to say what they mean, and mean what they meant
Though with mics connected souls are disconnected
From the true Source, no new force
The Highest G in due course of course
They may choose not to be held
In tight grips in who's lips Truth is withheld
And be an instrument that is instrumental
And fundamental not speaking things detrimental
How many mics are misused on the daily
To spread hatred and lies? I see many many many
I see the Master of Ceremony reaching for more mics
To free 'em from the grips of lies and hype
And again speak forth the light
[Hook]