Written by: Hasan Salaam

The bread is my body of work
The wine is my blood transfused thru the track and the verse
I tell the truth till it hurts
Apostle of a gospel not found in a church
It was rose from the dirt
Born black in amerikkka some call it a curse
But every child born in bondage has immaculate birth
Norplant converts the fertile flesh to a sterile breath
Another would be mother gasps at the scent of death
Momma made soul food from this ungodly mess
Probably best that pops left
Shit he was nobody's chef
Stress had him cooking different up in hells kitchen
Sniffing blow and sipping fire water became his religion
Our afflictions are the chains that bind us
And purgatory's here to constantly remind us
Until we move on to the light that blinds us
Do this for the remembrance so heaven can find us