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The lyric video for ‘Spread The Opps’ from Lecrae off of Church Clothes 4. Listen to ‘Church Clothes 4’ out now everywhere: !sto-lyricvideo Create Your Video with the Official Sound on YouTube Shorts: TikTok: Reels: Connect with Lecrae Site: Twitter: Facebook: Instagram: TikTok: @_lecrae Produced by DrumGod, JuanRa, Limbo, DudeClayy Written by Lecrae Moore, Robert Gullatt, Juan Ramón Luis Melliàn, Brice Sibomana, Clayton D Rogers, Kendrick Alloway, Lasanna Harris, Alexandria Dollar, Deandre Hunter Engineered by Connor Back & Jacob “Biz” Morris Mixed & Mastered by Connor Back & Jacob “Biz” Morris Lyrics: We on top, we got love, kill the opp We on top, we got love, kill the opp Holy Father, God in Heaven Show Your power, let it come For Your Kingdom and Your honor To Your Spirit and Your Son Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out Ooh, I think they hate me (Yeah), in my Bape tee (Woo) Ain't no pardons in the garden if you snake me (Yeah) You can't break me (Uh), tryna chase me (Yee) When it's rocky, I move ASAP, you can't Drake me (Shoo) I'm fine, I got my feet up, I ain't never scared, don't put my heat up I was outside and tryin', no re-up, where my opps at? God gon' eat up They ain't ever free us Lock my family up, my mama told the judge, “He ain't no killer“ It's all good 'cause on that prison yard he preachin' 'bout the Healer Spread the opps out (Woo), now the cops out (Sheesh) Facin' death, you wanna plead, but you can't cop out Now you locked out, I promise my God comin' back, when He do, it's a problem Got His attention but you don't want tension You don't want the smoke, it's too late, you done got it Holy Father, God in Heaven Show Your power, let it come For Your Kingdom and Your honor To Your Spirit and Your Son Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out What's your intentions? I see your screws and your wrenches You tryna break up the bi'ness, ruin my witness Spreadin' yo' lies and opinions, you don't deserve my attention You's a pretender We was so used to the cold that my mama gave birth to a winner Put all the opps on alert that we out in the trenches And demons do not get forgiveness Pray for repentance for all my family that's sinnin' I ain't the truth, I'm a witness I got some blood on my hands and some dirt on my fingers You know that I gotta go get it, I gotta go get it Lord, help me kill all of my demons, I look in the mirror, I seen 'em I had a BM, I forced her to get an abortion I pray when I die, I can meet him They want me cheatin', tellin' me open my DMs Eat all this fruit that I'm seein' I got some people in prison, I need to go see 'em If it weren't for the Lord, I would be 'em Yeah, I know they won't catch me lackin', see me off in traffic Yeah, I'm packin', got that oppa-stoppa apostolic ratchet 'Bout that action, keep them .223s but Jesus my assassin If you askin', I'm still 116 until I'm in a casket I see my opps tryna pop out (Woo), they wanna pull every stop out Wait 'til my God spin the block and He let off them shots He gon' air the whole spot out (Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo) Holy Father, God in Heaven Show Your power, let it come For Your Kingdom and Your honor To Your Spirit and Your Son Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out Spread the opps out, spread the opps out, spread the opps out ℗ 2023 Reach Records
